


Shameless With a Side of Egg and Noodles

by Cease_Sphire



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Dysphoria, Depression, Drunken Shenanigans, Eventual Female Lavellan/Varric (Dragon Age), F/M, Friends With Benefits, Hawke & Varric Tethras Friendship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm an elf!, Lavellan/Solas Angst (Dragon Age), Letting someone who is emotionally hurting you go, Modern Girl in Thedas, Moving On, Open Relationships, POV First Person, POV Original Female Character, POV Third Person, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Postpartum Depression, Protective Hawke (Dragon Age), Protective Solas (Dragon Age), Protective Varric Tethras, References to Depression, Self-Acceptance, Self-Indulgent, Self-Preservation, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Solas is not Jealous, Some Humor, Swearing, Unplanned Pregnancy, Varric Tethras is a Good Friend, Varric Tethras slow burn, egg jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2020-10-04 00:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20461745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cease_Sphire/pseuds/Cease_Sphire
Summary: After waking up in Thedas, shortly after the Breach has been stabilized, an introverted gamer is thrust into a tenuous position of power. Where a quick reload is no longer an option if she says or does the wrong thing.With no clue on how to wield magic and fight without the press of a few keys and buttons, she is forced to seek help from a now very real antagonist. An elf who she knows could now truly break her heart. Her only edge against this familiar yet dangerous world is the knowledge of what is to come, unexpected allies and a seemingly unavailable dwarven rogue who remains a steadfast companion at her side.Main Pairing: Varric/Lavellan (the slowest of burns)Other Pairings: Solas/Lavellan, Male Hawke/Lavellan





	1. The blast high above

**Author's Note:**

>   
I started this MGIT mostly just for fun and to cheer myself up at a pretty low point in my life.  
I hope it can bring you some joy too. 
> 
> Any warnings, possible triggers, and elven translations will be listed at the start of each chapter. 
> 
> Speaking of triggers, regarding any pregnancy in this fic I plan to gloss over labor and birth. Violence will be about the same found in the game. Any chapters involving sex will have a NSFW warning and may or may not have a fade to black alternative chapter. Mostly, it all depends if anything important came up during that particular chapter or not.
> 
> As for Canon Divergence and the use of in-game dialogue, I try to keep it to a minimum. I used the AU tag mainly because this story is a MGIT and due to her memories of playing the game she will have the ability to alter some future outcomes.
> 
> Other Mentioned Pairings: Male Hawke/Isabella, Male Hawke/Fenris, Dorian/The Iron Bull, Sera/Dagna, Cole/Maryden, Blackwall/Josephine, Cassandra/Regalyan, Neria/Zevran, Neria/Alistair/Zevran, Neria/Cullen
> 
> Basically no sex scenes for these pairings but maybe some fluff. The relationships are touched upon in varying degrees and subject to possible change. I just wanted to offer up a list of who's with who past and present.
> 
> Tel'abelas - I am not sorry.  
Shemlens - quick children  
Dirthara-ma - May you learn.  
Ar abelas - I'm sorry  
Asha'bellanar - "The Woman of Many Years." How the Dalish refer to Flemeth. 

The blast high above deafened his sharp ears along with every other living soul’s nearby. It echoed and shook the corrupted remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Loose stone blocks tumbled free and pebbles showered down around them.

The flash that had come first, however, penetrated through not only his lids but drawn up arm. It made his eyes burn until they watered. It may have been wiser to keep his head down. To give his senses time to recover but with a grimace, Solas blinked up at the sky the moment the light faded.

What remained, through the explosion’s afterimage, caused a devastated groan to issue past his lips.

Of course, sealing the first large rift had not been “the key” as he had hoped. But the death grip upon his heart, since the Veil was violently torn open, began to ease. A brief relieved chuckle even slipped out past his lips at what he realized next.

The Breach had stabilized. High above it still swirled, flashed and rumbled but with less frequency and strength. No new debris hurled from it to rain down upon them. Most importantly, the hole in the sky would not swallow the world, at least not today.

_ Things may not be so dire after all. We have time. Another attempt can be made. _

Or so he thought until Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast yelled out in alarm.

Solas turned and watched, transfixed in horror. His hearing, still muffled from the blast, he saw more than heard the woman call to him.

Time seemed to slow down as Cassandra cast aside her sword and shield. His breath held as she ran then dropped to her knees at the fallen prisoner's side. The beats of his heart echoed in his ears as her hands wrung useless, in a silent plea to the Maker. To him. All before the sounds around him came rushing back at full blast.

“Help her, please!”

Snapped out of despair, his training took over and Solas jerked from inaction. With Cassandra's help, they eased the limp elven mage over and onto her back.

His stomach dropped at the state they found her in. Her hazel eyes slightly opened but unseeing. Her freckled skin and full lips tinged blue. The entirety of her left hand and forearm singed with spider web like blisters.

“Solas is she…”

_ No… No-no-no! It should have worked! _He mentally chanted in panic.

“Is she not breathing?”

“No, she's... Ir abelas,” his voice cracked in sorrow despite Ellana's prior loathsome attitude towards them all. 

For her anger, suspicion, and reluctance to help, he understood. The humans were all too quick to lay the blame of what happened at her feet. Yet in the end, this First of Clan Lavellan gave everything in an attempt to stop the chaos, if only for her people. A point she made abundantly clear in between curses and slurs she threw about as they had made their way to the Breech. Her ire only increased further when the vision at the rift revealed the truth. Her only crime was investigating a call for help while snooping around for information.

“Tel'abelas… damn you all shemlen… dirthara-ma,” Ellana struggled out to both their surprise. Her voice, barely a whisper did little to dull her final barbs. "You… you promised flat-ear."

Solas blanched under her watery glare. He suspected only raw fury and sheer stubbornness kept her clinging to life now. But it would not be enough. A rattled exhale from her next confirmed it. Tears of pain slid from the corners of her eyes as they rolled back. Her body then went slack and silent. 

“Shit, she stopped breathing. That can't be good,” Varric Tethras cursed from somewhere behind them. 

“No!” Cassandra shouted in distress. She lurched forward as if to grab up the prisoner or Solas. To what end Solas did not know as the storytelling rogue snatched her back.

“Seeker, you need to let him work.”

“Let go of me, dwarf!”

Meanwhile, Solas ignored them and focused upon locating a pulse at Ellana's throat. Thready and slowing down, it left him with only one last option.

“We still need her, do we not? You must do something mage. Now!”

“Seeker I assure you, I will do all that I can. However, I will require privacy just as before,” Solas curtly requested. He wasted no time to await her answer and started to form the first of two much-needed glyphs instead.

Cassandra the Right hand of the Divine, did not need to know the details. If she suspected in order to save the prisoner blood magic or some other spell, forbidden by the Chantry, would be involved she could very well be correct. As he predicted, for deniability the Seeker did not hesitate to ask for any details.

Instead, she gave a sneer of disgust, rose and agreed, “Do what you must. I will clear the temple as you request. Send us a signal of fire when it is _ safe _to return.” With that, Cassandra turned away and started ordering, “Clear out. We need to head back to the forward camp.”

“But the injured?” Sister Leliana, the Left Hand of the Divine, protested as she ran up to them. But upon noticing Solas working over the motionless prisoner, she gasped, “Oh dear! Is she-”

“Never fear Nightingale, Solas here believes he can save her,” Varric explained with a grim grin. “But he needs a little privacy so he can do-well something the two of you probably won't officially approve of.” 

“I understand. I suppose _ now is the time _ to not delay,” Leliana relented, caught Varric’s gaze and in response, he gave a small agreeing nod. 

Whatever remained unspoken between them was easily overlooked by everyone else in the chaos as she pointed to a way out. “I'll coordinate with our people to help move the wounded as quickly as possible. We can have the temple at least cleared in several minutes.”

“Do it but I doubt she has that long. Solas-”

“Seeker, I am already using this time to prepare her for… for what will need to be done. However, the temple must be empty when I perform this ritual for everyone’s safety. Master Tethras, remain for now. I require your assistance.”

“Me?” Varric sputtered but didn't protest any further. Instead, he drew closer, hunkered down on the other side of Ellana as the women left them.

True to their word, the hands of the Divine worked quickly. Meanwhile, without hesitation, Varric focused on the instructions given to him on how to palpate Ellana's chest. All to keep her heart pumping blood as Solas perfected the glyph to take over the task. Only when it came to the directions to help her breathe did Varric baulk.

“Wait, you want me to do what!”

Solas without a pause repeated, “Pinch her nostrils closed, support her chin with your other hand. Take a normal breath, put your mouth over hers, and lips sealed blow your air into her until you can see her chest rise. Do this twice and repeat the chest compressions.”

“So two breaths and thirty chest compressions got it-got it,” Varric repeated to himself and with a blush he did as he was told. His lips sealing around Ellana's parted ones.

About a precious minute passed before Solas completed and activated the first glyph under the prisoner. One which would aid her heart to continue beating. 

“Now that the compressions are no longer necessary, I need you to continuously breathe for her until I am finished with this next spell. Just take care to allow her chest to fall completely in between each breath.”

“Honestly Chuckles, what are her chances?” Varric paused to ask the moment Solas started work on the second glyph. One that would force her lungs to continue to draw breath.

“They diminish with every moment you debate over continuing to breathe for her, Child of the Stone.”

“Point taken,” Varric acknowledged and bent over to resume his remaining task until Solas told him to stop. He backed away with a hard swallow as Solas waved him off and activated the second glyph which overlapped the first under her back.

“Thank you, now go.”

“Right and ah good luck,” Varric offered before he jogged away.

Once alone and the brief summoning ritual complete, with a bittersweet joy Solas watched on. It did not take long for her golden eyes and familiar coy smile in a handsome aging human face to emerge from the billowing inky smoke. As she tisked at him like a disappointed mother, Solas resisted the urge to hang his head in shame. This particular bit of chaos wrought to the world after all was not entirely his doing. 

“Another unforeseen complication?”

Solas sighed to her question but rose and finally dipped his head in respect. 

True the woman held only a remaining fragment of Mythal’s soul, but he could sense time and patience had restored his slain dearest friend to a formidable power once more. A union who currently far exceeded his own abilities still recovering from atrophy.

“It has been a long time old friend,” she greeted as she took in the ruins around them and the storm above.

“Indeed. Asha'bellanar is it now?”

“Among many-many other names. You may call me Flemeth,” she hummed. Her sharp gaze dropped from the torn sky to the prisoner lying upon the decaying glyphs. Playfully she worked out, “I take it this, however, is the more pressing concern to risk summoning me here of all places?”

“Yes.”

“Then do humor me and explain why does this poor girl bear a burden that was to be yours?”

“She came into contact with it first.”

“Obviously,” Flemeth grunted and looked about to scold him more. But with time growing short she waved away any further explanation he tried to offer. “Spare me the details for now. I suppose you wish for me to save her _ and _the power she now holds?”

“Can you?”

“Impressive you've kept her alive this long given your current limitations,” Flemeth praised gruffly instead of answered as she knelt beside the dying prisoner. 

Azure tendrils of power floated down from her palms as they hovered over Ellana in assessment. Solas held his breath but he knew the answer the moment Flemeth abruptly stopped and her now wide-eyed somber gaze met his.

“You've taken a bond-”

“No, I gave her only the barest of what I thought was needed in order to preserve her life and thus the mark. I asked for nothing in exchange.”

Flemeth's head slowly tilted to the side as she digested all the consequences of this newest complication. Her sympathies soured as she scolded, “Gifting even a tiny part of your power-your very soul in your weakened state was foolish!”

“I know,” Solas agreed with a pained expression. “But what other choice was there?”

“I suppose it's a moot point now,” Flemeth conceded with a wave towards Ellana. “She agreed to your offering but unfortunately you did not provide her enough. The damage is done and there is too little left of her to save. I am sorry. The mark has all but consumed her and what you gave her. But there is a way I can preserve the power she has taken. Roll up your sleeve and give me your hand.”

Solas only hesitated long enough to do as instructed. Still, he grunted in shock as Flemeth, without so much as a warning, cut the inside of his left wrist. At least the blade was so sharp, it near painlessly opened his vein. 

“What? You thought I could transfer it all back to you? Ha! Oh, I am indeed powerful but there is no undoing this,” Flemeth drawled as he started to bleed.

She held fast to his wrist as she set aside the knife and from a pouch at her waist tugged out what looked like a simple quartz vial. That was until she cupped it in her glowing hand, under his wrist and upon contact with his blood the crystal activated. The ancient phylactery flicker brightly in a myriad of colors and whispered in what sounded like confusion. With a satisfied smile, Flemeth watched it lift from her hand.

“Ah good… there is just enough left. I may even still have one more use for you after this or maybe not. We will have to see.”

As more of his blood started to now slowly flow up and warm the air, her words sunk in with a chill. In horror, Solas tried to withdraw his still bleeding wrist from over Ellana.

“Another soul? Are you mad? No, I won't-”

Flemeth held fast to his wounded wrist as she warned, “Oh yes, you will! There is no other way. She is nearly gone. To save what's left of her and your precious power this vessel must be refilled with what is missing.”

The crimson mist of his spilled blood levitated higher into the air. Carried upon the gathering waves of Flemeth's mana it slithered around them and the soul phylactery in preparation. Solas wavered in indecision. He needed the mark but when the soul, pulsing at the center of the vortex, gave an ear-splitting scream in agony he shook his head.

“No! You subject this soul to the very methods that nearly destroyed you?”

“And saved her-saved me as it will save them,” Flemeth reminded as the soul between them quieted for now. Insulted she accused, “You think so little of me boy? Baw! This being did not share Mythal's fate. It was not betrayed, murdered, torn to shreds and nearly all burned away to nothingness! No, after this strange soul shed its mortal coil it somehow found its way to me. Why? Because it yearns to live again and since then it has been divided by me with care. Each piece an echo of the whole. A small price to pay. A gift really to become more and many. Take comfort in the cutting is already done and what’s left after two uses will live on.”

“You’ve done this before to it? Twice!”

“Yes and each piece, tempered by this world, has grown strong and gone on to serve it well. Now hold still!”

“No! How could any soul want this?”

Solas tried to jerk away again. Tried and failed as the metal fingertips of her sharp gauntlet dug in. It held him as painfully as any trap. Flemeth scowled and he knew even Mythal's patience would not stay the witch's temper. What came next was of no real surprise. It was, however, a first coming from his friend.

“This one you foolish boy and with its help, you _ will _clean up this mess!”

The punishment fueled by some of his very own blood only made it worse. The excruciating pain sent Solas crashing gracelessly to the ground.

Helpless, he laid alongside a nearly dead Ellana. Her pallid features wavering in his vision. 

_ All my fault… Sorry… I should have given you more. _He lamented in fragmented thoughts before he mercifully escaped the agony and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

The sun had set when he jerked back to consciousness with a swift panicked gasp. Flemeth, of course, had not lingered. But a quick check of his inner wrist and the sealed wound there was enough of a farewell. The minor concern of bleeding to death dealt with he moved on to his greater one: the Mark. Clumsily, he got to all fours and moved to kneel beside the still prone prisoner.

From all the blood loss and the residual smell of it in the air, a wave of nausea hit him. He pushed through it and to check her pulse, once again with a shaky hand. This time he found it strong and steady. Her color too had returned to normal and her breaths were deep and even. Reverently, he took a few moments to marvel over her restored marked hand. Unlike his wrist, not a single scar could be found. But it was the power it still held which had him drawing it to his heart, closing his eyes and exhaling in relief. His old friend had done well and yet something unimaginable and horrifying.

_ At least not all has been lost. _

Solas savored the small victory for only a few more moments before he sent up a weak flare to signal Cassandra and the others to return. Drained dangerously low of both mana and blood all he could do was wait and rest. Yet when he heard a small whimper, he rushed to take Ellana's restored body into his shaky arms. All to offer what small comfort he could to the wounded soul as he pondered in silence.

_ What knowledge does this cutting even contain? Who was it before? Will it recall the ritual in time? It’s previous life? Three… three times it has now endured this! How will the remnants of Ellana’s and mine shape it? _

He watched on, nervous and held his breath. When the new Ellana’s now brighter colored hazel eyes cracked open, he once again whispered, “Ir abelas.” To her confusion, he added, “There was no other way to save her and what you now hold. I am truly sorry.”

Her lips moved and Solas leaned in to listen. The very last thing he expected to hear and sense from her was concern and least of all great affection. The intensity of it only fanned the flames of his self-loathing all the more.

He could only watch on as she, with a small grin, weakly cooed, “Hey you. Wow, you look so… real.”

“Real?” He puzzled and felt her cool fingertips shakily rest upon his chin. The bare skin contact only intensified the connection. Her smile grew as her thumb teased at his cleft then his lower lip. 

“Ha, you have stubble! Soft lips...” Her amusement and adoration washed over his senses before it transformed into a bittersweet worry.

“Aw don't cry my precious egg… you're so silly to worry ma’lath. I'm fine. I'm just...” 

He guessed the next word would have been tired as she fell back unconscious. Her hand slipped away yet a small smile still glowed over her features. Peace radiated from her and Solas gave a shudder of relief. Utterly confused he wiped at his cheeks and indeed found them wet with a few guilty tears.

“Ma'lath? Silly? Egg!” He mouthed and frowned down at her in disbelief.

What he sensed could not be possible. The affection felt too long established given the short amount of time they knew one another. Even with the fragments of an incomplete bond remaining did not explain the utter opposite of what Ellana broadcasted prior to stabilizing the Breech. As for the newly installed soul, it would know nothing of him.

_ Unless… no, impossible. _

He tossed aside the foolish theory. For now, he also put any concerns of her sanity and his own aside. Someone was coming. Varric, he recognized from the leather coattails flapping and the short strides as he ran towards them at full speed.

“Well? Is she still with us? Did it work?” Varric shot off as soon as he spied them. He slid to a stop and reached out to cup Ellana's cheek. "Warm, so alive right? Hey, snap out of it and talk to me Chuckles.”

Solas studied the rogue in suspicion. He appeared hardly out of breath and it had not taken him long to arrive.

“Alive yes, the state of her mind however remains uncertain.”

“But she will wake up, right?”

“Yes but a near-death experience, such as this, can often change someone drastically. As to how much? We will all have to wait and see,” Solas offered as honestly as possible. All the easier to hide yet one more lie. He managed to keep his tone unconcerned as he asked, “And just where were you and the rest before the signal?”

Varric held up his hands and teased, “Oh I swear none of us peeked if that's what you're worried about. But in all honesty, Cassandra and I were just outside of the temple which was close enough to hear Ellana screaming. Took all my charm to keep the Seeker back until your signal. Especially when things got quiet. You're welcome by the way.”

He stepped aside as they heard Cassandra emerged from behind a fallen wall with a slight limp and a scowl.

“Varric, I told you to wait for me. And why did you not help me up?”

“What? Did you stumble and fall or something Seeker? I didn't hear or notice. My apologies!”

“Didn't? I find that unlikely dwarf! I swear you tripped me.”

Not at all the picture of innocence Varric asked, "Me? Why ever would I have reason to do such a rude thing like that?”

Through gritted teeth, Cassandra muttered, “No matter. What is of more importance is the prisoner. This ritual, was it successful?”

“Rest assured Seeker. The anchor has been saved,” Solas truthfully answered and waved for Varric to take over. “Would you see to Ellana's journey back to Haven? I would accompany her myself but currently lack the strength to do so now.”

"Sure, no problem!” Varric accepted and rushed to wrap Ellana in his arms.

The relief and joy that lit up the dwarf’s features, for someone who at best merely tolerated them all hours earlier, Solas found curious. These nearly tranquil like beings apparently were capable of caring for one another a great deal. Admirable as that was Solas still felt little kinship with any of them.

With so many cut off from the Fade and magic, their facial expressions, body language, and tone of voice were their only means to communicate simple moods. To Solas, the air about them remained painfully devoid of complex emotions. It reminded him yet again of how the world had twisted and sickened from him locking away parts of it.

As Varric worked to carefully lift the still unconscious Ellana up and start for Haven, the Seeker relaxed. Enough for her to return her attention to, who she thought, was the one who saved the only person who could seal rifts.

“Thank the Maker and you that she is still with us.”

_ Oh, do not thank me _. He grumbled mentally as he reluctantly took her offered hand. His head spun as she easily and quickly got him to his feet. 

“Are you all right? Shall I send for Adan?”

“No need. I merely require a few moments to recover. Your reluctant healer is needed far more by others, is he not?” 

In truth it took a tremendous effort to stand, keep his expression neutral and his head high. An old habit to hide any weakness among strangers, rivals, and enemies. One he stubbornly refused to give up. He hoped she would not notice just how much he needed to lean upon his staff.

“If you are certain,” Cassandra offered back but not entirely convinced.

With a forced small smile he instructed, “Ellana requires more of your attention than I. Although it is doubtful she will waken again anytime soon, if she does so before we reach Haven she may panic and express confusion.”

“She woke up? Already, before we came?”

“Yes but only briefly. Given what she has gone through keep in mind that when she wakes again she may make little if any sense at first. It would be prudent to refrain from any more questions. Instead, reassure her that she is safe and will come to no harm. I will provide more detailed instructions to Rena for her care as I attend to researching the nature of the Breech.” His tone became a touch bitter as he added, “That is if you allow it. Or shall you throw your only hope to save this world back into that prison cell again? Ignore what we have witnessed and foolishly continue to blame her for everything that has happened?”

To her credit, Cassandra appeared contrite. She even floundered a bit. Before she decided, “I will arrange for more comfortable accommodations to suit her new position. She will still need to be under guard however for her own protection and… she will no longer be considered a prisoner.”

“In that, we are in agreement, Seeker. Her protection should be your paramount concern.”

“Are you sure you are well enough to make it to Haven without assistance? You look paler, well than usual.”

“I am certain. I just need a little more time to collect myself and I will be along shortly. Again, Varric and Ellana require your help more, do they not?”

Reminded she nodded, paused long enough to pass him a healing potion before she started off after Varric. Once no longer under anyone’s scrutiny, Solas allowed his shoulders to slump. After a few unsteady steps, he sat back down on the nearest pile of rubble.

Unable to go on any further, Solas used the time to sip at the flask. To plan his next dozen or so possible moves. But unlike chess, each one in life held far more variables, consequences and a multitude of opponents.

But one decision at least needed to be made soon. To remain and work with those who survived the Divine’s Conclave and risk exposure. Or to cut his losses, extract this new Ellana and together with his slowly growing network of forces and spies they tackle the problems before them in another way.


	2. A crackling snap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isala’renan - In Need of Voice  
Her full name is rough translation taken from Sa'Renan - One Voice and Isala'Lath - In Need of Love.
> 
> Warnings: Just some swearing, body dysphoria, and understandable panic attacks.

A crackling snap of burning wood off to my left and the rustle of feathered wings were the first sounds I recalled filtering in. The fuzzy realization that a bird was in the room along with a controlled fire I found hardly alarming. Instead, the benign noises only coaxed me to awaken fully.

Upon an exhale I gave a huff of frustration. I wanted to go back to the strange dream about Flemeth. All in an attempt to recall more of her wise but cryptic words. But only a couple of sentences kept looping on repeat.

_ “His eyes are shut. You must open them, child.” _

_ Who’s? Who’s eyes? Too many eyes, no! _

Flashes of Fade spiders, running in terror and struggling up a black cliff face to a blinding light drowned out any further thoughts. Except as with many dreams, my subconscious next spit out a doozy of an odd one.

_ Periwinkle… The Dread Wolf’s eyes are-wait, why was he crying? _

The Breach a halo behind his head. A mournful expression twisted his features. I murmured something probably mortifyingly honest but heartfelt. 

_ What did I say? Gosh, I hope it wasn't anything too... _

My thoughts scattered. It felt so real. More detailed than any dream I had in the past of him. I recalled the pores, light freckles, scars and fine lines of his skin. Even how a few stubborn hairs in each of his light auburn eyebrows stuck out, giving him a feral look. How the scruff on his chin pricked against my fingertips. Most of all, he was made of warm flesh instead of pixels. Then after a befuddled look down at me, he was gone. I wanted to keep sleeping and return to his arms. All to soothe away the tears that had slipped down his cheeks. I tried once before everything got dark but it had been so hard to move. This time my aching left hand lifted easily enough but only found air.

“Solas?”

No answer. Nobody, as usual, was there. With a deep breath the scent of pine, wood smoke, sweat, urine, and wool-filled my nostrils. It pushed me ever closer to waking up as my arm dropped back down.

“Strange,” I yawned out and gave a slow trembling full-body stretch. “Wha-why does my... voice sound so funny?” I added around another. 

With each breath more differences about my surroundings filtered in along with annoying discomforts. The blanket over me felt too hot and heavy. The sheets under me chafed my palms as the left one started to throb. From head to toe, I felt damp and sticky, especially from the waist down. Even the firm mattress and pillow felt nothing like my old but cozy bed. The sound of my box fan was replaced with wind whistling through cracks in the walls and window seams. But it was the icy gusts and the rather loud creak of a door opening then closing that had me jerking fully awake.

“Wha-what are you doing in my…” I trailed off with a wince as I sat up way too fast. Luckily, my head throbbed no worse than any hangover I had ever experienced before. Still, my stomach lurched and my eyes watered as I threw up a hand to squint. “Ugh, this isn't my room? Where am I and why is it so damn bright in here? Who are you?”

“Oh!” The young lass cried out and dropped the wooden box she carried. 

It gave a dull crash upon the rug which covered a stone floor. Glass rattled from within and may have even broken but I didn't care. In pain, I winced. Every noise from the bird in the cage cawing in alarm to the wind picking up outside seemed far too loud.

“I-I didn't know you were awake, I swear.” Her nervous voice at least sounded familiar. But no thanks to my grogginess, I could not peg from where yet. As I struggled to stay upright and shove the blankets off she added, “I would have knocked first if I had known. I’m so-”

“No, it’s okay!”

She sounded harmless enough but the reassurances did not help. Overcome, she swooned in fear and collapsed to her hands and knees on the floor. 

“Wait… what are you doing? Why are you doing that? Are you-”

“Forgive me!” She pleaded as she kept her head down.

My jaw dropped and my eyes bugged. But not entirely over the fact someone dropped to all fours to cower at my feet. No, it was her ears. Her very large and _ pointed _ ears. 

“You’re… you're an elf!” 

This gave her pause before she stammered, “Why y-yes that I am. I am also but a humble servant, my lady.”

“Wait, you’re that one in the orange who-who…” I trailed off and looked about in utter disbelief. “Oh, this-ha! No way. This can't be...” 

_ This isn't even the start of the fucking game! _I mentally screamed and bit my lower lip to hold back a real one.

Gone was my bedroom with boring white walls, a ceiling fan, and blackout curtains. In its place was a room that looked eerily familiar but of course with far more details. I would have gone on gaping at everything. From the wood grain on the walls to the thankfully clean chamber pot for hours but a sniffle from the floor snapped me out of it. For the moment, I managed to push down my own panic and rush over to help the poor lass up.

“Hey, it’s alright. No need to cry. Please don't-I don't bite I swear. What’s your name dear?”  
  
To this, she started to calm a little and explain, “Isala’renan but I prefer just Rena for short.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I offered back automatically. As she steadied herself I worked up the nerve to ask, “So where am I, really?”

“Haven, my lady.”

With a nervous laugh, I sputtered, “W-what? No, stop joking around! This has got to be some kinda prank.” 

“Prank? I assure you that-ouch!” She yelped when I tugged at one of her ears just to be sure.

“Sorry! I-I honestly thought they were fake,” I mumbled in shock and started to weave. Now it was she who needed to help me stand up. My head dropped and I noticed I was in a thin sweat-stained shift that ended mid-thigh and not in the snappy taupe Skyhold pajamas. The cold breeze on my nether regions told me I was also without underwear. 

“Fake? Why would you-”

“Where are my clothes?” I deflected in a panic instead of answering. “And why do I feel so weak? Where are my glasses?”

“You’re what? Um, perhaps you should sit my lady while I refresh your bedding? You’ve been unconscious and ill ever since they brought you back. After you saved us.”

“Ill? What do you mean refresh? Oh.” My cheeks burned as my eyes fell upon a yellow stain on some bunched up cloth on the bed. I somehow no longer needed glasses to see the crude nappy must have slipped off in my haste to get up.

Rena reached out and tried to reassure, “You were ill. There is no need to be embarrassed and-”

“No, I'm fine! Everything is fine!” I lied and jerked away. 

At a loss, Rena regarded me with big, worried filled green eyes as I hugged myself. It did little good. It felt wrong with no softness to my arms or midsection. I did not dare look to confirm the changes. Instead, I wanted to curl into a ball or make a run for it. With the evidence piling up, I felt myself detach a little more. Through the panic, I somehow managed to ask, “So this is really Haven? As in the Frostback Mountains Haven?” 

“Yes, my lady.” 

She sounded far away as I struggled to keep breathing slow and deep. 

A voice, that was definitely not my own, wavered when I next inquired, “Haven as in, next to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Haven?”

“Yes, my lady-well what’s left of it.”

“And they brought me back from the temple after I tried to close it-the Breach, right?” This admittedly was yet another rhetorical question but I had to be sure.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Oh… well… but this-this can't be really happening. This has gotta be some kind of-” I yelped as my left palm started to sting and light up. 

“By the Dread Wolf, help us!” Rena cried out as she fearfully scrambled back from me. I almost laughed as she reminded me a little of Merrill. The pain had it catching in my throat instead.

_Shit! Ouch! This shouldn't hurt because this can't be real! This isn't even the start of the fucking game! _Again I mentally screamed as I finally dared to look at a long-fingered hand that clearly was not mine.

The reality of the mark upon me was more alarming than painful. It throbbed no more than a particularly deep bruise.

Aloud between hard breaths and gritted teeth, I managed, “Where is Cassandra? Leliana? Why now? Why here!”

Although the questions were not really directed at anyone, Rena eyed me warily until the Mark calmed. Once it did, I started to look around again. Still in denial, I touched things like a blind woman navigating an unfamiliar room. Another wave of derealization hit and I stumbled towards the stone of the hearth. 

With my head spinning I let the rocky edges of it bite into my now pressing palms. I pushed harder and concentrated on the discomfort along with slowing down my breaths. Touch always helped in the past, that and mantras.

“This feels real. So somehow this has to be real. It’s real and I’m safe. I’m safe. Somehow this is real,” I chanted over and over again. 

“Yes my lady, you're safe," Rena confirmed timidly.

Once the lightheadedness passed, I shuffled to the desk and pulled out a chair. Still numb and disconcerted I needed to touch more. The fabric of the seat seemed real enough and soft. With a quiver, I sat down. The desk and everything on it I fumbled with next. It caused a few pages of parchment and quills to flutter to the floor. I paid the mess no mind as I held up a book in one hand and a sealed inkwell in the other. In a daze, I shook them at Rena.

“But… but how? It's not right! How can all of this be real? Look at this!" I cried and sprang up. "All of this can't be real! And _ you _-you're not supposed to even have a name!”

This time she stood her ground. Her mouth worked a bit before she managed to sooth, “I-I do… my lady. Rena, remember? Oh dear, this-this all must be some sort of shock. My lord Solas warned me-everyone this could happen,” she quickly assured more to herself.

“Solas?” I whispered as my pulse drummed louder in my ears. “He's… he’s here? Ah w-where?”

“Yes. He's still resting in his cabin. He, Master Adan and I have all been taking turns, caring for you since they brought you back. From the very start of it all. Since you fell out of the Fade and again after you stabilize the Breach remember?”

“Um… sorta,” I admitted aloud but silently I thought.

_ I need to pull it together. Stay cool and just play along for now. Yeah, I can do that. _

Meanwhile, Rena nervously plucked the items from my loosened grip and put them back on the desk. Upon seeing a sharp letter opener, she snatched it up and tucked it away in her belt as she slowly backed up towards the door. It was probably for the best. I paid her precaution no mind as my gaze fell upon a note remaining on the desk.

_ Vain hope: Someone better at this than me takes over before the survivor expires. Notes in case. _

_ —Day One— _  
  
_ Clammy. Shallow breathing. Pulse over-fast. Not responsive. Pupils dilated. _ _Mage says her scarring "mark" is thrumming with unknown magic. _ _Wish we could station a templar in here, just in case._

“The Breach is stable at the moment. That’s what they are saying. Begging your pardon my lady, I should get going. Seeker Pentaghast will wish to know you are awake. ‘At once,’ she said.”

I stopped worrying my thumbs over the actual codex report of the Herald’s health, handwritten on parchment and jerked my head up. “Wait… Cassandra? She’s really here too!”

“Yes, my lady. At the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. ‘At once,’ she said!” Rena repeated as she fled the cabin.

The door slammed behind her and I was left all alone to come to grips. A small comfort in a very dangerous world and torn away from everyone I loved. I swallowed hard at the ominous click of the door's lock and did what anyone would do in this situation. I started to freak out and hyperventilate all over again.

_ Shit-shit-shit! This is not a game anymore but how? Maybe-possibly a psychotic break from reality more likely-but if it's not… oh Maker what am I going to do? I can't fight! I get winded walking up a few flights of stairs for fucks sake! And-well um maybe that won’t be a problem in this body. No lower back pain so far and damn it sure is flexible. _

The bright side of it all was that I did not have anyone staring at me as I impulsively bent over to touch my new albeit larger toes without any difficulties. After a few more stretches I started to giggle nervously. But the joy of being, for the first time in years, almost pain-free and fully mobile did not last long. 

My eyes started to burn as I covered my mouth. Even the shape of my now fuller lips felt wrong. My weak breathy laughter soon gave way to hiccuping sobs. For the sake of the murmuring crowd outside, I struggled to hold it all in, including my breath. When the room started to spin I stumbled back to the foot of the bed and plopped down. I tried to grip my knees but fumbled at how boney they were.

In a daze, I stared at them. The thighs were lightly freckled. The backs of the hands and arms too as I mumbled, “Yep this-this is definitely _ not _ my body and yet here I am groping it!” 

Under the little to nothing shift, I discovered I was nearly all muscle-well almost. My breasts seemed smaller but it was no great loss. I never really enjoyed the larger ones I had. Still, I shivered at how painfully thin I was and on a hunch, my hands flew to my ears.

“Sweet Maker! I’m an elf!” I screeched as my hands actually fluttered in full on nerdy excitement before clapping over my mouth.

Seconds later I couldn't stop playing with them. I chuckled over how sensitive they were as well as very long and softly pointed. 

“Great, I have those huge rabbit ears but still… I’m really an elf!” I gasped in awe and remembered my voice was different too. It held a pleasant pitch but lacked the British accent. Given I was from the Midwest I could understand why.

“Oh dear… what in the Void do I even look like?” I wondered as I had made a number of Lavellans, Trevelyans, Cadashs and Adaars since the game’s release. Some were male but mostly female and even a few I tried to make nonbinary. 

In a panic, I jumped up and started to frantically look for any reflective surface to use to inspect my new face. The small chest by the cage held a few bits and pieces of armor but none of the fancy and shiny dragon-themed stuff I expected to find. There were also no weapons. To this, I paused and gave a shiver of dread over the fact I was probably still considered a prisoner. With another, I snatched up a thankfully brown instead of green mercenary coat and threw it on along with a red wool scarf. I also found some pants and boots and put them on too. It was all stained with green mystery goo, probably from demons, and a little torn up but I didn’t care. Warmer I resumed the search for anything that could give me an idea of what I now looked like. 

When I found a little intact black glass bottle, in the wooden box Rena dropped, I could only make out two details. Freckles covered the entirety of my new face. The second was, I suspected, a faded Mother of Halla vallaslin on my forehead and chin. I would have kept on squinting at the funhouse reflection on the curved glass for minutes more if the door had not burst open after it had been quickly unlocked.

“What are you doing?” A deep woman’s voice had me dropping the bottle with a dull thump on the rug.

Her accent was a little thicker but the glare, the crown of braided black hair, the sneer and scar left no doubts. 

“Cassandra!" She was stunning and before I could stop myself I whispered, “Oh why-oh why did they make you only straight?”

This had the Seeker sputtering, “Pardon me? Who are these ‘they’ you speak of and this-this straightness?”

_ No time to fangirl. Stop drooling and focus! _I mentally scolded and waved.

“Ah hi? I mean um sorry, w-would you prefer if I address you by title only, Seeker?” 

This had her pausing and thankfully distracted enough to let the matter go. 

“For now. It’s good you are dressed. Come, I want you to attend a meeting. There are important matters we must discuss if we are to move forward.”

I looked down at my stained and somewhat smelly garments and started to protest, “But-”

“I’ll send Rena to draw you a bath and fetch you proper attire by the time you return. You’re presentable enough given the circumstances. The important thing is the Breach is now stable but we are getting reports from all over of many other smaller rifts. They must be dealt with and that is where you come in. We need your help. I will explain all at the Chantry.” She gestured for me to join her side and warned, “Ignore the crowd and keep moving. Most are here to thank you but a few still think you are responsible for the death of the Divine. There have been a few attempts already so it would be in your best interests to cooperate and stick close to me.”

“A-attempts?” 

“Yes. Upon your life,” Cassandra tactlessly cleared away any doubts.

Four templars flanked around us once we crossed the threshold of the cabin. Despite the bracing cold breeze, they reeked of body odor and whiffs of something else. Lyrium I guessed from the mineral and metallic scent I caught upon their clouding breaths. I suspected they had just dosed up for this special occasion as a precaution. But all thoughts of pinching my nose or speculations over why Cassandra chose Templars for escorts I put aside for later. The chatter outside fell into reverent whispers as I looked up at the crowd.

“There she is, the Herald of Andraste!” A man called out in amazement.

“But why would the Maker send us an elf?” A woman behind him sourly shot back.

_Oh my and nooo thank you!_ _Sorry, I can’t do this-too much responsibility. I’m out. Time to wake up before everyone turns into a nug and starts chasing me around a small hill of cheese._ I thought and tried to take a step back. 

But the smelly templars were having none of it. The ones at each elbow firmly gripped my upper arms. Not too hard but enough for me to know they were in charge. 

“Herald, we need to keep moving,” the one on my right informed curtly. They pulled me along rather gently. And once I gave up on digging in my heels, to follow Cassandra voluntarily, they let go as the remaining two flanked behind us. Still, all of them were pressed about me a little too close for comfort which was doing no favors for my chronic social anxiety.

Even in normal circumstances I really hated the press of a crowd. To make matters worse they were all staring at me in hope, bowing their heads or for a few glaring daggers. It also didn't help the gathering was a little larger in size and rowdier than it had been in the game. The soldiers more than ever were needed to keep everyone at bay as the people pressed closer for a better look. Some even trying to touch me as several feet away a scuffle broke out as a man tried to shove closer. The flash of a knife in his hand had the templars closing ranks even tighter and hurrying me along.

“Don’t think for one second that we’re grateful! You didn’t do anything but kill our Divine you feral knife-eared bi-" The man’s shouting insults were cut off to the sound that could only be an armored fist connecting with his gut.

“You will not speak of the Herald of Andraste in such a manner, piss bucket!” The soldier, I presumed who hit him, yelled amid shocked gasps. The crowd scattered just enough for me to see him next easily twist the crude weapon out of the would-be assassin’s hand with a sickening crack. 

“Hang him with the others! Let him be yet another example that we will not tolerate any further ignorant aggression towards our Herald,” Cassandra ordered loudly, over the man's howls of pain and pressed us on without a pause.

“H-hang him as in execute him? Holy fuck Cassandra! Seriously?” I mumbled and weaved. Nobody seemed to hear me as the crowd jeered loudly as the nonbeliever was dragged away.

“Don’t listen to him! You saved us all! Thank you Herald,” an old woman cried out and was followed by echoes of agreement and gratitude.

My head started to spin and I stumbled. Both templars rushed to steady me as the one to my left kindly soothed, “Easy now, Herald. We'll let nobody here hurt you.”

A numb “thank you” was all I could think to whisper back. Her Orlesian accent, even under her helm, caught my attention and her name tumbled out before I thought the wiser of it.

“Lysette?”

Her jump and her companion’s tightened grasp to my right confirmed it before he hissed, “How'd she know that!”

I felt Lysette shrug and turning to the man I struggled to remember his name. 

_ M… something? _I pondered wordlessly as my gaze fled his accusing one and searched over the chaos of the onlookers.

Usually, I felt uncomfortable even when playing through this moment. I would make a beeline to the Chantry instead of basking in the devout congregation's awe and listen in on what they had to say. Now the religious worship was unbearable as my escorts tugged and prodded me along. In a daze, I kept pausing to numbly take in the shabby wooden cabins, the people’s haunted faces and most of all the Breach swirling in the gray winter sky. I remained in shock until the great doors of the Chantry closed behind us. Released at last I stared at the now dormant mark in dismay.  
  
“So this-all of this-is really happening?”  
  
Cassandra paused, nodded to my hand and asked, “Does it trouble you?”

“Of course it does,” I answered and knew that wasn't one of the options on how to respond. I usually picked the humorous ones but now I didn't care. “Cassandra I… I’m scared. Although it's amazing to meet you and be here all I want to do is to go _ home! _” My voice broke on that last word and I started to cry.

Not gracefully either, nope I let loose some rather big, embarrassing ugly, blubbering sobs. At least I managed to turn away from them all. But the thought that already I was letting everyone, but most of all Cassandra, down by sniveling only made me cry harder. These people needed a hero, not someone filled with crippling doubts and fears from a peaceful life by comparison.

“Leave us,” the Seeker ordered the templars. Her tone had them near to running, judging by the clatter of their armor. In seconds the doors were opened and shut leaving us in near silence. I tried to pull it together or at least try to not make a sound. When her arm wrapped around my shoulders with a startled jump what little composure I grasped slipped away. 

“This all can't be real! It can't! It's impossible! Why Cassandra? Why me?”

With no sign of me stopping anytime soon Cassandra gently guided us to the quarters right of the war room. Unlike the game, they contained more than just three beds, a few chairs, and wardrobes. The room was in fact a great deal bigger with cots, basins, tubs, chamber pots and dividers. It could easily accommodate at least twenty or so people. From the fine red, gold and white robes that hung about it was clear the space was for the surviving servants of the Chantry. 

“I wish for all of this to not be real too, Herald.”

“No, that's not what-” I clamped my lips shut, shook my head and mentally coached.

_ Not yet. Maybe later tell them. At least you’re still alive. At least you didn't need to face those burned bodies, the shrieking terrors, shades, wraiths, and that pride demon. Come on, suck it up. You are safe. Slow breaths. _

Aloud I offered, “Cassandra I’m sorry, I just-give me-”

“Take all the time you need. Here sit,” she ordered and carefully pushed me down to settled upon the nearest bed. I concentrated on keeping my breathing even and steady. She watched and wrung her hands nervously for a few moments upon letting me go before she thought to close the door to afford us some more privacy. After she sat next to me, she slowly started, “You-we all now face a difficult path... but we must take comfort in that we are not alone. If we work together I have faith that we can get through this. We must-we will endure and... I am sorry Herald for how I acted and treated you earlier.”

This had me sucking it up and protesting, “No. You had every reason to be upset. You cared about the Divine so much-um obviously, and now…” I swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry! I wish I could have helped her and-”

“But you did! You answered her call for help. I will not forget what I saw at the Temple,” Cassandra’s voice thickened and hearing her give a wet sniff I simply turned and hugged her tightly.

Granted, I am normally not a touchy-feely kind of person. I had trouble hugging even my own parents and brothers at times. Not so fun fact, my whole family had that problem. But now more than ever I needed one. As I wondered if I would ever see them again I let loose a small wail of despair. Cassandra broke down too with a smaller sob and crushed me back. We didn't embrace for very long as her breastplate felt about to crack one of my ribs. It had me quickly tapping out and both of us sobering.

“Thank you. I needed that.”

“No problem,” I squeaked back with a grimace.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No-no I’m fine, really!” 

“Don’t lie to me, mage. Not when you are clearly healing yourself before me.”

“I’m wha-whoa!” I noticed the glow and looked down at my right hand rubbing at the center of my chest. The light faded immediately when I tried to inspect it. But thankfully, the ache was now at least gone. Finding her scowling at me in distrust again, I huffed, “Way to ruin the moment, Cass. What? Don't give me that look. We just cried together and hugged. And the name is not mage but ah-um...”

_ Shit, shut up and think! Did the Herald introduce herself to them yet? Should I use the default name? _

I wondered with a nervous smile and blessed Cassandra saved me again from another awkward moment.

“Since you insist on being so informal, are you feeling alright, Ellana?”

“Honestly? No, not at all. How about you?” I kicked myself at how bitter that came off as I mentally sighed.

_Default_ _name it is… greaaat._

For some reason, it didn't even phase Cassandra. Instead, she gave a grin as she teased, “You were the one lazing about since we brought you back.”

“Hey! I earned it and you're welcome!” I scoffed playfully and held out my right hand. “How about you just call me Elly for short? Never been fond of Ellana.”

“As you wish. I suppose you may call me Cass but only in private.” To me starting to open my mouth in protest as we shook hands she added, “It's best to keep to more formal titles, at least while in public. That reminds me, I will need to reach out to our ambassador to arrange some etiquette lessons. And please do not take that as an insult. I make no assumptions about your clan or upbringing. Just know that I too struggle with such frivolous formalities as well and wish they were unneeded.”

“Fair enough. Got a Kleenex?”

When Cassandra’s eyes narrowed in confusion I surprised myself on how quickly I bullshited with, “Ah it's elven for-for handkerchief! A very-very obscure-almost forgotten word for it. Like many things ah… elven.”

“Er yes, I do believe we are in need of something of that nature. Check your pockets,” Cassandra ordered, sniffed to clear her nose as she reached behind her breastplate and pulled one free.

I patted my coat pockets down for one of my own as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose rather loudly. To her pause and sheepish look, I chuckled, “Oh I can get louder than that. Don't hold back on my account.”

In relief, she continued with gusto. With no luck, I resorted to the red scarf. I refrained, from blowing my nose on it and gave a few sniffs to clear it instead.

“I apologize that I do not have a spare to give you but you do seem ready. Are you?”

“Ready as I'll ever be. I'll be fine for now. This… this should be interesting,” I assured her and followed her to the war room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rena will be a regular supporting character. I just found her too adorable and thought, "Dammit she deserved a name. I'm adopting her!"
> 
> This was actually the original first chapter I wrote back in the summer of 2017. I started it after a relative died and I was in a job that made me miserable. Writing this helped me get through it... a lot. A bit escapist, oh yes. 
> 
> Anyhow, figuring out how my MGIT arrived brought about the previous chapter. When I stumbled upon the Arcane Warrior's soul trapped in a phylactery in Origins I thought it would be a good fit when it came to how Flemeth would perform the ritual. Fragmented souls, stuffing them into other bodies seemed like a fun idea too.


	3. Before crossing the threshold

Before crossing the threshold I forced myself to stand tall and keep my chin up. All in a small attempt to at least appear more confident about the situation than I actually felt. Upon our entrance at the other side of the table Cullen, Josephine and Leliana also snapped to attention. Their looks and attire were spot on compared to the game but with far less shine, vigor and cleanliness. But then going commando and braless in demon goo stained clothing I was not about to hold their current lack of grooming against them.

Everyone, including the immaculately dressed Josephine, looked in sore need of a good cry, a full meal, a long hot bath, and a full night’s sleep. An easy bet, they along with many others were still working relentlessly since the explosion in order to minimize the fallout. As Cassandra and I drew to a stop, they all regarded us with a haunted and numb if not tense expression.

Their silence suffocating. The air in the small room, too stuffy and warm. The incense, torches, and candles did little to cover up the tang of aged body odor or lighten the mood of the room.

Out of the three before us, Cullen looked the worst for wear. His pallid face was covered in a sheen, maybe from the early stages of lyrium withdrawal. His blonde curls were not styled but flattened by too much time wearing a helmet. His hair color dulled with oil build-up and in sore need of a wash. At the very least it needed a proper combing aside from his fingers.

His expression soured as he leaned back and settled his grip upon the pommel of his sword. Before I found it just a cute pose. Now I realized he needed it to help support his posture. In fact, he looked near to falling over in exhaustion. I suspected his lower back, at the very least, was killing him. As a former fellow sufferer of chronic back pain, I tried not to stare as my heart went out to him in sympathy.

I gave another stuffy sniff and felt a blush coming on when the former Knight Commander’s attention fell upon me. His brandy colored eyes widened in concern at my probably still bloodshot ones.

With a frown Leliana chided, “Cassandra, after all that she has done, I thought we agreed-"

“I did not interrogate her further,” the Seeker only provided. “Shall we begin or not?” It was not really a question but more of a demand to change the subject.

“It's true. Just a little jit-ah overwhelmed by the problems before us all,” I explained and gave a few more small sniffs.

After a quick look at the both of us, Leliana managed to work out enough of what had happened. She let the topic go, at least for now. Cassandra made formal introductions but with far less of a flourish than in the game.

“Before you stands Commander Cullen. He has agreed to become the leader of the Inquisition’s forces.”

“Inquisition?” I asked aloud. Puzzled over why it had been formed already. Apparently, I had missed the second confrontation with Chancellor Roderick. No big loss there, since I doubted hearing his demands to have me executed would have done any favors for my fragile mental state.

“Yes, we will get to what that means soon enough,” Cassandra dismissed. It also interrupted anything Cullen was about to say as she continued, “Our Ambassador and Chief Diplomat Lady Josephine Montiyet.”

“Andaran atish’an,” Joesphine greeted after she was introduced.

I offered her a kind smile. Then without thinking, I replied, “Ma serannas.” To her confused look, I realized what I had done and quickly translated, “Thank you.”

“And lastly you have already met Sister Leliana.”

“Yes, my position here involves a degree of-”

“She is our Spymaster,” Cassandra declared bluntly to Leliana’s great annoyance. I had watched the joke playout before hundreds of times but still could not hold back a small grin.

“Yes... Tactfully put,” Leliana sighed as she threw us both an annoyed glare.

“Pleased to meet you all,” I offered back. When Cullen weaved a little I hastened to add, “Before we continue any further can we all please sit down? We have much to cover, so why not do so in some comfort?”

“Oh, that sounds lovely!” Josphine eagerly agreed. “I’ll send for some refreshments. We could all use a midday meal and more chairs too. It will just take a moment.”

She rushed off as Cullen started to sputter in protest, “That’s not really-we should be-”

“We should all take this opportunity to rest Commander,” Cassandra declared. She threw him a firm look that made it clear the suggestion was never up for debate.

As Cullen started to mutter under his breath, I was grateful for not being the only one who noticed he was in sore need of some self-care and rest.

Since there were a couple of chairs already in the room we all spent a few moments pulling them up to the war table as one more was brought in by a templar. Cullen however stubbornly refused to sit until the rest of us were all settled comfortably first. Even then it took some prompting from Cassandra before he stopped pacing and eased into one reluctantly with a small sigh of relief.

_Chivalry and that unhealthy work ethic is going to kill him someday if he's not careful._

I thought as his eyes drifted closed after propping his elbow upon the arm of the chair and his chin upon the heel of his hand. None of us said a word as he almost immediately dozed off as we waited for our impromptu meal. Instead, the three of us shared a small knowing look and let the Commander rest.

Josephine worked away at her writing board. It currently lacked its red candle but then the room seemed bright enough to make it unneeded. Her nib scratching as she bit upon her lower lip. Cassandra looked to be praying. Her head bent forward, her eyes closed and her jaw grinding. Leliana simply sat, blank-faced as she studied us all.

I looked about the room curiously and tried not to stare too long at anyone. Mentally, pinching myself again and again in amazement over being here. But the feeling I was being closely watched dampened any joy over the situation.

Every time I glanced in Leliana's general direction I caught her staring at me hard with an unreadable expression. Why exactly? I didn't know, but it was unnerving, to say the least. I wanted to call her out on it but didn't want to risk waking Cullen. So I settled upon giving her a knowing smirk and a small wave. Caught she rose without a sound and fetched a few things to set upon the war table.

When a few trays of food and wine arrived minutes later Cullen roused with a confused start. He blushed and offered up a stuttering apology but no protests when a servant was directed to set the largest platter next to him. Heaped with cured sliced meats, bread, cheese, nuts, and dried fruits, he did not hesitate to dig in with gusto.

As the rest ate, Leliana pointed out the Divine’s writ now upon the war table and informed me Cassandra had earlier declared to Chancellor Roderick the Inquisition was now reborn. There was no dramatic surging music for this moment. Only the anticlimactic creaking of a chair as Cullen struggled to sit still as he chewed.

Everyone paused in their snacking when Cassandra requested, “So will you stay and help us?”

Tension filled the room as they awaited my answer. Just like with any playthrough I had no real choice but to stay. The man's assassination attempt aside I needed protection from, to be honest, everything. Even a seasoned Dalish mage, which I was only technically to them, would still be vulnerable to the many perils of this world all alone. As a former overweight gamer with little to no athletic coordination and just a few basic survival skills from a place with no magic, I would be as good as dead if I left within days if not hours. Still, one had to appreciate the sentiment of they did at least ask.

“Of course. I will try to help in whatever way I can but I have a few questions.”

Normally, I would skip them as they were put into the game mostly to explain the lore or help make an informed choice. But now, I asked as many as I could recall and more. All to play the part of a naive Dalish First along with keep Cullen off his probably aching feet just a little bit longer. After I shook Cassandra's offered hand to seal the agreement I noticed how everything was going a little differently than how it did in the game.

For one thing, I was gratefully not the center of attention all of the time. Their banter and bickering with one another as they ate, drank and planned our next moves had more depth, spontaneity and moments of silence as we all reeled at the situation we found ourselves in.

So nervous I could only stomach to sip on the watered-down wine. I tried not to freak out over it all since this was to be expected from living and breathing versions of once fictional characters. I also had to try and not panic over the fact they were no longer a collection of pixels and voice actors.

Another concern was there would be no reloading to a previous save if I said or did the wrong thing. But at least now I could always back peddle, elaborate or apologize but doing that might not work either.

_Just how much should I try to change things? What if something small is enough to alter my knowledge of what is to come in the next few years? Shit, what if I forget something important? And would they even believe me if I managed to put what's happened and where I am from in a way that doesn't sound completely bonkers?_

All of these questions and more I struggled to answer as they kept talking.

“What do you think about that, Herald?” Cullen asked and I jerked guiltily back to attention.

“I ah um… it's unsettling what they're calling me I mean?” I mumbled automatically from what I recalled from the Herald's options.

“What? No, that was minutes ago. You already told us that. I was asking about...” Cullen’s expression softened from confusion and annoyance to sympathy as I felt myself going red.

“S-sorry Commander, I didn't mean to drift off there.”

I squirmed in my seat and wanted to run. I felt the tears rising again. It took everything to not let them fall. I couldn't even look him or anyone in the eye. Worse yet, this skinny body had me shivering. To warm up I nervously rubbed at my now scrawny arms.

That and the real Cullen was sometimes downright scary in the flesh, armor and well even under all that fluff and currently matted curls. Granted, he was still handsome. But the fact he was at least a head taller than me, if not more, and probably three times my new weight made me feel very small and easy to crush. At his throat clearing to break the silence that filled the room, I suddenly added another frightening worry to the ever-growing pile of, oh shit I’m so screwed.

_Just how much are these people like their fictional counterparts? Will they grow to like or loathe me?_

“No need to apologize,” he assured softly and I managed to finally meet his now warm gaze. “We’ve all been through so much these last few days. You especially, Herald. Let's end this business for now and regroup tomorrow, shall we? The ironing out of the details of your journey to the Hinterlands can wait till then.”

_There he is. There is my sweet Cully-Wully,_ I thought with a shy smile.

Aloud I agreed, “I’d like that. Thank you, Commander.”

“I second the motion. We’ve made excellent progress today,” Josephine agreed with a distracted mumble as she finished her notes. “Plus I need to meet with the Marquis DuRellion to remind him that although the Breach is stable, thanks to you, it is still a threat and therefore we still require his generous hospitality.”

“Need any help reminding him we are helping the distressed faithful so he doesn't have to?” I offered as I remembered that particular scene with Josephine all too well.

“No need but an excellent suggestion to point out to him. Again it was nice to finally meet you Mistress Lavellan,” Josephine politely declined and started to make her way to her office.

“I’ll help you finish the announcements to send out to Redcliff and Therinfal Redoubt within the hour. Hopefully, my ravens will clear up any confusion as to what's happened to their people before word of mouth does,” Leliana called after her and moved to a stack of papers to get to work.

“Even if we are acting upon the Divine’s holy directive until order is restored that doesn't mean either will agree to aid us,” Josephine warned from over her gilded shoulder.

I watched all but Leliana leave. A nagging sense I was forgetting to do something had me lingering behind.

“Is everything all right, Herald?”

Without thinking I spun around and blurted out, “Butler! Oh dear, that's right!”

Leliana froze and the look she gave was equally chilling all before she gave a far too warm smile to melt away some of the ice. As kindly as an old friend she rounded the table, drew closer and dropped her voice to ask, “Pardon?”

I was not fooled. Granted, I adored the character Leliana but didn't want to get on this woman’s bad side, marked hand or not.

“I um… heard a rumor is all.”

The lie was a weak one but the best I could do on the spot. With so very little information about Butler or Farrier from the game, I should've just kept my big mouth shut. But it was one of the keys to softening Leliana if that even was still a thing.

“A rumor, oh? I didn't know you were one to _gossip_ Herald. But then your people did send you to the Conclave to spy on us, yes?”

Our voices might have been too low for Cullen and Cassandra in the main hall to hear. Regardless, they continued on their way without looking back as they talked among themselves.

“It’s probably nothing but if he comes up again before you decide anything, could you come and please speak with me first? I’ll try to explain later. I just need some time and...”

I gulped as Leliana moved right in front of me. Inches away I could see the fine lines about her full lips and at the corner of her eyes along with a light sprinkling of freckles.

“Some time? No, I think not. You will tell me now. What exactly do you know about Butler.”

“H-honestly, not very much. Just he’s one of your best agents-no that’s Farrier. Butler and you are friends or were friends once, right?”

“And however did you come to hear all of this interesting information about me? About them, hum?”

“Oh ah... I-I overheard it.”

Technically, that much was true. Still, she waited for more unblinking. Even if I knew about this tactic, the silence still made me squirm and I found myself taking a step back.

“Can't say from where... out there. With these ears, I pick up so very-very much and if I hear anything more I’d be happy to share what I’ve learned.” I gave a nervous laugh to her frown. But unable to stand idly by when I could help save Farrier I added, “Okay look... the reason I mentioned it is I heard Butler is about to or has already killed Farrier.”

“What!”

When she backed me away from the exit into the nearest wall I spilled most of my guts before she could even ask. Or worse draw a weapon and demand I answer.

“I don’t know why Butler would! I never met either of them. Maybe he's even got a good reason to kill Farrier. It was just something I overheard and it could be wrong! I just felt you deserved to know since it could save possibly two people from getting killed by you overreacting!”

“What do you mean by me overreacting? You’re the one not telling me everything Herald.” Her gloves creaked as her fingers started to squeeze around my upper arms.

“That’s because I can't! Ouch!” I squeaked in discomfort.

“You mean you won’t but you _should_,” Leliana declared. The calculating determination in her eyes alone for more had me now completely spilling my guts.

“No, I really can’t because that’s all I know! Okay, the overhearing part was a lie. Call it a premonition or whatever. Look Lillabell I just want to help you. Now please calm down because you're scaring the crap out of me!”

She froze at what I called her, paled and immediately released me. After she recovered in a cautious yet curious tone, she asked, “A premonition? As in you saw this all before?”

I nodded reluctantly. With my hands up I pleaded, “Please-please-please don’t say anything to the others about this. I can't see everything that can happen. I just… I want to help and try to save Farrier. You should figure out what Butler is up to-why he wants him dead. Just don't kill him.”

I hesitated to use her own vision she disclosed to the Hero of Ferelden against her but felt there was little else I could say to secure her silence. “I’m only telling you because out of everyone, you’re the only one I think who can… understand and not laugh or scoff at them. And if I get another, you’ll be the first to know, deal? Just please, don't tell anyone about them.”

In clear debate, she bitterly looked me up and down. After she took a moment to school her features she sweetly warned, “Very well. You’re right, I do understand but don’t think this is over, Herald. I’ll be looking into this matter as you suggest and we will have much more to discuss later.”

As soon as she left, I let out the breath and sagged against the wall.

“I am sooo dead,” I whined and slid down it to the floor.

I wondered how long it would be before I would cave in and tell my future advisors the truth or at least part of it. Keeping secrets and being deceptive in any way was usually against my very nature. But now more than ever I would need to keep at least a few. No matter what, I needed time to think.

It was a few minutes before I forced myself to get up. Alone I took the opportunity to look about the room one more time in awe. Always in a cinematic scene whenever in this space I could not explore it in detail until now.

With a playful grin, I picked through and admired the various map markers in a velvet lined case. They were the size of chess pieces but heavier, made of unknown metals and shaped just like the ones in the game. There looked to come in at least three themes, one for each advisor.

The map on the war table alone was breathtaking with far more details compared to any other of Thedas I had seen before online or in the game. Aside from the major cities, there were other smaller villages, hamlets and numerous natural landmarks all carefully marked out. A surprising number of roads branched off from the Imperial Highway. Streams and creeks feeding the main rivers carried many fanciful names. I smiled finding little dragons and other beasts dotting the landscape too.

“Herald?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin but managed to smile up at Cullen upon recovering. For a big guy in armor and leather, he could surprisingly move without a sound.

“Y-yes?”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Seeker Pentaghast asked me to inform you that your escorts are ready if you wish to return to your quarters."

"Just my quarters?"

"Given what happened on your way here we need at least another day to reevaluate those allowed in Haven."

The assassin's face twisted in hate and his foul curses had me trembling all over again. Still, despite what he did there was no reason to go so far as to hang him. I had not been hurt after all.

"Oh, yes that. So um… Do we really need to hang him?"

"Shortly before your arrival to the war room, a messenger filled us in on what happened and confirmed the Seeker's orders were carried out," Cullen reported and then eyed me in confusion to my flinch.

"Oh no, I-I should have said something sooner," I whispered as my face crumpled and I a few tears slipped down my cheeks.

Baffled Cullen rushed on to explain, "Herald he meant to kill you. His intent was clear as day and in front of countless witnesses. What else is there to do but execute him?"

"I don't know, imprison him for a time? Banish him? It was only an attempt and a pathetic one at that. He… he looked half-starved. He probably was just lashing out like that because he lost someone dear at the Conclave."

As soon as the suggestions left my mouth I knew it was unlikely any would be accepted. At least not here and now. Aside from the Breach in the sky, the constant threat from dark spawn and demons had honed this world and it's people to something harder and sharper. I would perhaps need to become so as well but I truly did not want to, at least not yet.

In defeat, I explained, "You may find it foolish but where I come from we… we deliberate more upon whether or not to take some else's life even in the name of justice."

To his credit, Cullen did not dismiss my suggestions outright or belittle them. His gaze and posture softened as he selected his next words with touching sensitivity.

"Your people's compassion is commendable but unfortunately, we lack the resources currently to offer it. Perhaps in time, we can but as for now, our position is tenuous at best. According to some in the Chantry, we are heretics despite the fact we are carrying out the Divine's writ."

Calmly and carefully I argued back, "I mean no disrespect to your ways but… we need to maintain a high ground. We are trying to set things right yet they fear us. That misguided man can be easily twisted into a martyr. To prevent that we must maintain our ideals, offer order and justice else Roderick's argument that we are all thugs and heretics will start to hold water. At the very least we should interrogate any would-be assassin to root out if anyone else is a potential threat. If we are short on resources fine put them on rations. Make them work for their freedom if we can determine if the attempt was merely misguided. Regardless the people need to see the process of justice carried out and not death dispensed on a whim."

I watched him sober as I spoke and worried he would become defensive and push back. But he gave a grim nod.

"I'll inform my soldiers and recruits. Sister Leliana won't be pleased, she'd rather see them hang. The Divine's death has hit her the hardest. They were close."

With literal gallows humor, I flatly suggested, "I don't know, maybe interrogating them might cheer her up."

Cullen snorted softly and admitted, "If so she has lost more faith in the Maker than I thought. Now aside from the grim business of this latest attempt, how are you holding up?”

“I think we can all say terrible. How about you? Did you enjoy your nap?”

“Ah-ha yes, sorry about that it won't happen again.”

“No, you needed and deserved it. You all do. It’s why I asked for the chairs. Josephine's suggestion we all have a meal too is a wonderful idea. Do you think the others would be opposed if we continue the practice?"

“It’s unconventional but a welcomed addition.”

“Unconventional? Well, where I come from, standing around a table doesn't help at all with tough decisions. We will need to think creatively and with clear heads not aching feet or backs. For that, we need to at least be comfortable. There is also less arguing and irritability too if one's eaten.”

“A fair point.” Cullen gave a tired chuckle, nudged his chin in the direction of the map and asked, “When I came in was there something you were looking for?”

My eyes fell upon it. With a blush, I admitted, “Just admiring the craftsmanship. I’ve never seen one so detailed before.”

"A fortunate loan. It's Varric's. He had this along with a few other helpful things in his possession when Cassandra brought him in for questioning in Kirkwall."

"I seem to recall him saying he was a prisoner like me," I corrected and watched Cullen sigh as he dropped into the nearest chair.

"That is no longer so. He's free like you to go but he insists on staying to help. His business contacts-his spy network, Sister Leliana assures me will be helpful. But I feel his skill with that crossbow of his, poisons, bombs and various small and sharp things will be of a greater contribution."

With a grin, I reminded him, "That and he's great for morale."

"He can spin some outlandish tales," Cullen agreed. "We had high hopes he could lead us to the Champion of Kirkwall after our failed attempt to locate Warden-Commander Neria Sur-I mean Arainai. We can't even find her husband."

"Husband?" My jaw dropped a little. The last name Arainai sounded very familiar but I couldn't place it.

"It's not common knowledge yet. Her and Zevran have far more colorful rumors surrounding them regarding King Alistair and Sister Leliana as they had all traveled together during the Blight," Cullen grumbled with a distracted look.

_Zevran! Oh right, he's got a last name. Wow, they actually got married? Good for them! And Alistair is King!_ Internally I squealed in happiness as I struggled for composure.

Aloud in confusion, I asked, "Rumors? What kind of rumors?"

By the deep shade of pink Cullen turned next told me enough. Neria, Zevran, Alistair and Leliana had all been possibly rather busy and perhaps even with each other during the fifth blight.

With a wicked grin, I couldn't help myself and needled, "Did one by chance involve an infamous pirate at a brothel in Denerim?"

Cullen verged upon red as he sputtered, "Ah my apologies, I-I should not have even mentioned there are rumors. I advise you strongly to not inquire further upon them-with anyone."

"Oh there are more?" To his clear discomfort, I hastily changed the subject and played dumb. "So Hawke. You were telling me you were trying to find him, why again?"

"Hum? Oh yes, despite the fact he's an apostate, Cassandra held high hopes he might be the perfect fit as Inquisitor. Since we were unable to locate the Hero of Ferelden he became our second choice. Given how well he handled the growing tensions between the mages and the templars before Anders-that abomination blew up Kirkwall's Chantry."

"Despite?" I prodded him to clarify as his tone had my hackles rising for some reason. "Do you have a problem working with mages? With me?"

Cullen shifted uncomfortably before he admitted, "In the past I did. I'll be honest in saying that there are times when I still struggle. But know that what I saw unfold at the Gallows in Kirkwall… it made me realize that anyone-even templars are capable of becoming monsters if given too much power. That corruption, abuse and cruelty did-does exist in the circles. My biggest regret is not admitting to it sooner and letting my fear of mages blind me. I'm grateful to the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall for opening my eyes again. So when Cassandra asked me to become Commander of the Inquisition I accepted and left the Order behind. Does the fact that I used to be a templar bother you?"

"No," I answered but it felt like a lie. A part of me wanted to get away from him and head back to my cabin. But instead, my fingers ghosted over the forests and mountains of the map. Upon finding the Hinterlands I asked, “Does Varric happen to have one of this region too? If so, may I make a tracing of it?” I licked my lips nervously as I settled upon an idea.

"The Hinterlands? Why yes. What do you have in mind?" He asked as he drew up beside me.

His size and proximity had me trembling again with attraction. Or at least I thought it was just that but the influx of conflicting emotions I felt ran deeper to the point of instinct. Worse most of them felt utterly foreign. I never feared Cullen before or ever had such a surge of distrust for him as I felt now. I resisted the impulse to put some space between us and pushed forward with the tentative plan.

"We need supplies yes? The people Mother Giselle are assisting will need them too. Before the Conclave, I do recall exploring the Storm Coast and the Hinterlands. It's all a bit of a blur now but if I can stare at a map for a while maybe I can suggest a few locations on where we can find materials we can use. I can't promise if it will be at all accurate but I'd like to still give it a try."

The suspicious narrowing of his eyes did no favors for my nerves nor did his next question, "Are you working with the mages?"

"No," I calmly as possible answered.

"But you are a mage."

"And Dalish, don't forget that!" I joked lamely. "I seem to recall you just saying working with mages wasn't going to be a problem anymore."

"I hope it won't but you must understand my concerns in throwing your lot in with them. As I said before more power poured into the Breach could destroy us all."

I relaxed a little and offered, "I agree. I was out cold for three days after the last attempt."

"You also nearly died."

"Ah... well, I rather not go through that again. So I agree with your point." I smiled at his shocked look. I didn't let him savor it for long by adding, "It's why I'm going to try my damnedest to bring in both the mages and the templars."

"What?"

"You don't think it could work? The templars suppressing the magic of the breach while the mages and I work to close it?"

Cullen gave the suggestion some thought. The tension in his frame visibly eased and with a small grin he ruefully agreed, "It might but getting them both to cooperate is the current ongoing challenge."

"Well, nothing like a giant hole in the sky that threatens to consume the world to help bring people together, right?"

With a chuckle, Cullen sighed, "If only it were that simple. Let me get you that map and something to trace it."


	4. At the hesitant coded knock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Just some cursing.
> 
> Sorry for the delay. I was down and out with a pretty nasty cold, twice. Plus this chapter was rather short originally until I decided to add the second perspective. I may refine Varric's part more in the future and apologize it doesn't come off as polished as the first half. 
> 
> Happy Holidays everyone.

At the hesitant coded knock, Solas did not bother to look up from the tedious but necessary task of preparing ingredients for a poultice. Instead, he called for his operative to enter and kept grinding the dried elf root leaves into a fine powder.

At the shy clearing of her throat, from the direction of the cabin door, he paused. Pestle in hand he gently reminded, “I do not bite, da'lin."

"I know it's just… if this is a bad time I can come back later, my lord," Rena spoke up at last as she stepped inside and closed the door.

"Not at all. Has she eaten anything yet?”

“Some, finally yes although nibbled would be more accurate. Just a few nuts and dried fruits this morning-mostly sweet things. Jam and butter on bread for lunch.”

“Good but what of her mood and behavior?”

To Rena's silence, he turned away from the mortar and put down the pestle.

“Well…" She twisted her fingers in worry and in a nervous rush reported, "Still melancholy, my lord. Moves around as if in a daze. Every time I check in she's back in bed curled around a pillow or a book. I’m not sure how well she sleeps but I'm certain she's been crying more. Never in front of me or anyone else as far as I know. But I'm pretty sure she is as her eyes are red and glassy most of the time.”

“Anything else? Has she left her cabin at all since her visit to the war room a few days ago? Spoken to anyone else besides you?”

“No my lord. I asked if she'd like to join me on a walk. To stretch her legs. Dalish like the outdoors, don't they? But she refused. Rather politely-apologized even and it's odd because she wasn't so much like that before or so I heard from you and Master Tethras.”

“Has she said anything else strange or worrisome?”

“No… no more talks of being the subject of pranks or offers to gather iron and elfroot of all things," Rena gave on a brief laugh but soon sobered. "Still her suggestions to Cullen on where to find rich iron deposits and a logging stand near Haven were correct! She's been working on a map of the Hinterlands too. Other than that she doesn't really talk except to ask how to do simple things.”

“Such as?”

“What to use where um… basic grooming. Or maybe those Dalish don't use oils or clean their teeth the same way as some of us city folk do. Either that or I suspect she's having more memory issues then she's letting on but she's a quick learner! Clever but...”

“Go on. You know you can speak your mind to me. No matter how trivial the detail, I need to know.”

“She's… peculiar. I mean no insult by that! It's just she keeps odd hours. Mostly up all night writing down a great many things. Not all of it in the kind you see about here."

Intrigued Solas requested, "What do you mean?"

"Begging your pardon my lord, I'm not so good with letters or reading. All I can say is I've never before seen the ones she's using. When she noticed I was looking it over she simply apologized for making a mess and began to put it all away. I thought she would yell at me for forgetting my place or something worse. Instead, she only shooed me off with a laugh when I offered to help her tidy up the piles or fetch her something.”

Solas paused for only a few seconds in debate before he requested, “Do you think you could borrow a loose page without her noticing? I would not need a sample for very long. A day or two perhaps to make a copy.”

“I will try my lord but she’s either hid them well or burned them since. Oh, that reminds me! I found some bits with a few letters on them. I fished them out of the ashes after cleaning her hearth this morning. Here,” she offered over a small satchel.

“Thank you, Rena. I'll look this over later.”

She beamed under his praise and with a shrug admitted, “Just scraps. At least it’s nothing she'll miss. Is there anything else, my lord?”

With a small smile, he gave up on trying to correct her addressing him as such and shook his head. “Only to obtain an intact page and to err on the side of caution. The last thing we want is to upset her.”

Rena gave a rapid nod and took her leave. Solas followed her out. The cool air he hoped would wake him up. Unable to enter the Fade, due to Flemeth's blood magic ritual, his sleep and mood had been poor. A small price to pay to save the anchor. Still, he hoped the side effects of his participation would dissipate soon as he missed dreaming and speaking with his friends.

As he pretended to be in deep thought, he listened in on those milling about the Singing Maiden and the closer Apothecary. All to monitor their mood towards the Herald, himself and the Inquisition. A cautionary measure on top of the verbal updates Rena provided him whenever she was tasked to bring him something. She not only brought him her own observations but that from his other eyes and sharp ears about Haven. 

With so much literal fear in the air from the few other mages who chose to stay and help, Solas remained on high alert. If things soured towards the Herald he had no intention to stand idly by and lose a sizable portion of the power his orb had collected. The abused soul still struggling to settle into its new body and integrate with whatever was left of Ellana also deserved protection.

There had been no further attempts since she had first emerged from her cabin and was escorted to the Chantry by the Seeker and a handful of templars. So far most of the survivors and members of this new Inquisition seemed to have accepted their Herald. Some even murmured questions to each other about if the Chant of Light will be altered to include her. Or why the Maker would send a heathen Dalish apostate to save them. Internally, Solas scoffed at their dogma. 

_ If they only knew... _

At spotting Varric leaving the tavern and heading his way, Solas redoubled his efforts of appearing distracted. All in the hopes he would be overlooked. They were however in vain.

“Chuckles.”

“Master Tethras,” Solas politely returned as he tried to go back to ignoring the dwarf. The overly familiar nickname alone chafed at him. But centuries at court had taught him it was better in the long run to hide any small annoyances. 

Mentally he kicked himself for not just retreating to his cabin. Without any haste of course as to not raise suspicion that he wanted to avoid the author, along with anyone else unless strictly necessary. Instead he gave a tight smile and resigned himself to small talk as Varric drew up beside him.

“So… how's the Herald doing?”

“You ask this near daily and the answer remains almost unchanged."

"Is she still not eating anything?"

"A little now. I am sure her full appetite will return shortly."

"Has she left her cabin yet?"

In small exasperation, Solas suggested, "Why not simply pay paid her a visit and ask her directly?”

“Not my style and the rumor is she wants to be left alone. I figure she'll come out and grace us with her divine presence when she's ready.”

With a shrug, Solas somewhat agreed, “Or when she is forced to by the Seeker. We leave for the Hinterlands soon, do we not?”

“Yeah, whatever’s first. So what about you? Have you paid her a visit since she's woken up?”

Solas blinked and puzzled aloud, “Why would I? Rena is sufficient in attending to her needs and keeping me well enough informed.”

“Right, sure. Nothing to do with how she'll react to you now that you've saved her life,” Varric needled with a smirk.

“Not at all. Her gratitude or lack thereof is of no pressing concern. Now if you'll excuse me Master Tethras, I should return to my work.”

“Wait, I've been meaning to ask. Is it always that painful? That whatever you did ritual after we left.”

Solas turned away so he would at least not need to hide his disgust over what had to be done to two souls to save his power. It was one thing to take a fragment of a soul and join it with a willing host. Another to capture an intact one, cutaway piece after piece and force each part to help sustain a different body due to one kind of soul injury or another.

He clenched a fist at the small of his back. His other hand squeezed about his wrist as he crisply answered, “From my understanding pulling anyone from the brink of death will always result in more pain than simply letting them go. Why do you ask?”

“Why? You were there. I don't know how you do it-don't want to know. Bad enough waiting just outside of the ruins hearing it. Maker, I'll never forget her screams it seemed to go on forever.”

Solas blanched at recalling just the one he had heard. 

_ There were more? _

His brows lifted in shock as his stomach churned with guilt at the thought. 

_ How long was I unconscious? What have we done? Mythal… who would want this? _

His mind drifted to her current host. He gave a tremble at Flemeth’s last words to him before she knocked him out. 

_ “This one you foolish boy and with its help, you will clean up this mess!" _

He still could not comprehend any soul willing to pay such a high price to live again.

_To be spread so thin intentionally. _

Caught up, he completely missed how Varric scrutinized him carefully with a guarded expression. As that one cry from the soul echoed in his mind, too late Solas realized his face had become an open book. Worse the pitying look from the author further stung at his already wounded pride. 

Embarrassed Solas could only think to snap, “Then for her sake let's hope she has forgotten any discomfort. True it would have been kinder, in the end, to let her go but I had _ no _ choice!”

“Don't you mean _ we _? Hey nobody is-”

Solas slammed and bolted the door behind him to blot out any further platitudes from the dwarf. 

His anger towards himself renewed, Solas briskly undressed. It was not necessary but it would make what came next easier. The transformation had him sighing in relief. On large paws now he paced a bit. Pent up he itched to run. But it was still too bright yet to slip out of Haven unnoticed. With a whine, he leaped onto the bed instead. The frame creaking under his now larger bulk as he circled then curled up into a gray ball. Upon a long huff, he squeezed his eyes closed. 

All to, for a little while, shut out the pain over the souls and the world he had a hand in breaking.

. . .

Against his better judgment, Varric knocked upon the apostate's door. "Come on, Solas let's not end this on a grumpy note." He paused to think of something, anything to reassure the clearly rattled elf. With a scratch to the scruff of his chin, Varric complained, "Hiding behind a door isn't helping with this apology here. Look, I wasn't trying to upset you." 

Actually that was a bit of a lie. Varric had asked on purpose to see what kind of reaction Solas would give. He was surprised by how little poking and prodding it took. There had not been more screams, that too had been a lie. The normally wicked grace faced elf cracked and the clear distress only confirmed Varric's theory of what happened. 

Someone else had performed the ritual and Solas had been incapacitated in some form during it. Oh, Solas did still participated, willing or not. Varric was certain from the apostate's pallid appearance as he found him holding Ellana. The trace amounts of blood speckling his wool sweater sleeve before he kept it tucked behind his back from the Seeker. The smell of more of it among the ionized air left no doubts. Blood magic had been used. From all of the aftermath of various blood rituals Hawke and he encountered in and about Kirkwall Varric would bet more than fifty sovereigns on it. Double it easy that Solas had provided the fuel for it.

"For what it's worth," Varric went on. "You did all that you could, she's still breathing and because of that we all still have a chance. So thank you."

No response except, of all things, a brief but deep canine growl. With a hard swallow, Varric backed hastily away from the door, turned and jumped slightly. Rena frowned at him from just outside of the doorway of Adan's apothecary. In fact, the normally meek as a mouse elf had been boring holes in him with narrowed eyes as she clutched at her messenger bag. 

"Bumblebee!" he cheerfully greeted despite his guts now in knots. 

Aside from recently becoming the Herald's lady in waiting she still ran short errands. Simple unsealed notes, short verbal instructions and other small items between the Divine's hands, the Commander, the Diplomat, Harritt, Seggrit, Minaeve, Threnn, Flissa and anyone else remotely key to help the Inquisition run smoothly. 

The lass insisted she didn't mind the extra tasks when Varric expressed concern over her being run ragged. From others, he learned that before the Breach she had been some minor noble's servant from the far South who died at the Conclave. Like many, she decided to stay and serve the Inquisition. A guaranteed job rather risk travel without protection in a demon-infested countryside side to the nearest city for an unknown chance for work. Her story on paper checked out. But between Varric detecting a hint of Tevinter in her accent and Solas roping her into helping him with anything relating to Lavellan it struck Varric as more than odd. All in all, she now had her fingers in too many important pies.

"Is there a problem? May I be of assistance to you, Master Tethras?"

Varric threw her his most charming smile and waved her off. "Naw, you got enough on your plate. Don't you worry about little o'me. But actually is there anything I can do for our Herald? Anything she needs that the Inquisition can't provide for just yet?"

"Paper, mint, tea, coffee and chocolate," Rena listed off with no hesitation as she trailed after the author.

Varric winced and grumbled, "Gee why not add a cart full of lyrium to that list?"

"Oh yes, we do need that too according to the Commander," Rena agreed with a deep thoughtful nod. Oblivious to his sour tone she added, "If you like, I can ask him what the minimum quantity he feels the templars here could get by on for now."

"I was kidding, Bumblebee! I might be well off but damn, I can't believe it's gone to her head already."

"What has?" She asked and paused a step in confusion.

"Her becoming the Herald."

"Oh… oh no," Rena groaned as she rushed to catch up. "It's not like that at all Master Tethras! She's more than aware times are hard. She turns down most of what I offer to bring her. Those were just some things I've noticed she likes or-or mentioned in passing. Paper, mint, and tea are the most pressing for us all. Our supplies of it are starting to run low. As for the rest, again she only mumbles about it to herself now and then-well her and Lady Montilyet too. I dunno why they like either so much. Far too bitter. I tried both once. Just a few crumbs on a plate, a sip left in a cup, leftovers nobody would miss. Horrid taste in my opinion but curious as they both do smell so nice."

"Chocolate and coffee are an acquired taste. Funny you should mention the aroma, it helps. That and it's far better if sweetened or milk added. But coffee is a little cheaper than chocolate. It could help with moral. Warm everyone up and at least keep people awake better than tea," Varric hummed in thought. "We'll need to to keep the stuff away from Curly though. He needs a sleeping draft more than anything. For now, I'll get our Herald some more paper. Catch you later Bumblebee."

He was none too keen on having to dip into his personal stash, draft quality or not. With a grumble, he wrote a quick note, wrapped it along with around a half a ream in waxed cloth and headed down to the whole cabin given to the oh so precious Herald. He wondered if she even knew how many were squeezed in others and more, him included, piled in tents. The only reason why Solas had his own cabin too was nobody else could tolerate the reek of elfroot and other ingredients he helps process for Adan.

At the moment there were no obvious guards posted outside of Ellana’s cabin but Varric was certain Leliana’s people were still sulking about somewhere nearby. Before he knocked on the door an idea hit him. He set the package down on the stoop, banged on the door and ducked around the corner of a neighboring cabin to watch instead.

As he waited he chided, “Could have just given it to her yourself but no, let’s be creepy.” 

In truth, he wanted to deal with the elf as little as possible. Herald or not, on the way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes Ellana First of Clan Lavellan was anything but diplomatic and cooperative. She would have given Broody a run for his money when it came to being grim and prickly. The only compliment Varric could think to give her was she had been downright terrifying in a fight. That and she knocked Chancellor Roderick out and on his ass with one punch when he called for her to be clapped back in irons to await trial and certain execution. 

But all further thoughts upon Ellana’s prior behavior fell away as the door opened. As her head timidly poked out to look around, Varric wondered if the rumors were true.

Her blotchy face and the wet sniff she gave confirmed the more distressing ones. She appeared to no longer possess the confidence she had before stabilizing the breach.

Still, Varric tried to chalk it up to her nearly dying twice in a handful of days. It would shake up anyone. Yet the way she wiped at her cheeks and gave the bundle a puzzled yet delighted expression had the hairs upon the back of his neck standing up on end. His jaw dropped slightly as his heart started to hammer harder.

Upon the door closing behind her after she collected the gift, Varric could only think to whisper, “Shit… just what I don’t need, more weird.”


	5. The next few days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for your kind words. Please enjoy this nice long chapter where Solas and Elly finally meet.
> 
> [This chapter is dedicated to an awesome artist. Hot cocoa should be cannon, love yah to bits Stinky for your love of hobo Solas.](https://apostatehobolife.tumblr.com/)

The next few days flew by just as any leading up to an event one is not looking forward to. Everyone spent their time usefully preparing for the Inquisition's next move whereas I struggled with the mundane.

After we ironed out the details of reaching Mother Giselle in the Hinterlands, the advisors stopped calling upon me to attend any more of the daily meetings. To my great relief, they also left me to my own devices to recover for the most part. 

The exception, Josephine. She sent me books. Correction, she sent a  _ lot _ of books and some writing materials. All with a short note in her elegant penmanship which read:

_ Mistress Lavellan, _

_ A small collection to get you started in your studies. Please feel free to reach out to me with any questions. Upon your return from the Hinterlands, I hope we can begin lesson plans to review these various subjects in full. _

_ Sincerely,  _

_ Lady Montilyet _

"Small? Pff…" I grumbled as I picked out a few of the thinner tomes to pack since we were almost ready to leave. According to Rena, Harritt only needed a few more days to put the finishing touches on our new gear and weapons.

In the meantime, my suggestion on where to find resources such as iron, elfroot and the logging stand around Haven for requisitions were noted. However, I did not know if they would even yield any results as the grunt work was assigned to others. At least that was what Rena assured me with a near scandalized look when I offered to help with collection efforts. This also left me with the distinct impression that Cassandra and the rest did not want me wandering off alone. 

With a great deal of time on my hands, I mostly ended up trying to sort out my emotions and failing miserably to get them under control. The looming matter of how best to handle Leliana if she chose to pay a visit before the upcoming trip to the Hinterlands didn't help my nerves either. Admittedly, I relished hiding away in my cabin to dodge not only her but everyone else. I obsessed over the various ways I would only make things worse and get everyone killed. So the less I talked or was seen the better, I concluded.

The only person who checked up on me at least six times a day was Rena. It turns out, she was appointed a caretaker of sorts although she never lingered long. Sure she was kind and patient with any questions I had but she was also still so nervous. Whenever she rushed off, I couldn't help but wonder if she had any other duties. To ease her burden, I assumed she did and tried my best to not ask too many questions or request anything. Instead, I waited for her to offer and even then I balked to accept. 

“You sure you don’t want me to fetch you another blanket, my lady? Or how about another pillow?”

I stopped rubbing my arms, shook my head and reassured, “No need. I can sit closer to the fire or put on a coat. Besides, many others need a blanket far more than me.”

“Yes but... you're the Herald. With all due respect my lady, we can’t afford you becoming ill.”

“Rena, I’ll be fine.”

“There must be… " She fussed a little in thought then prompted, "Would you prefer a pot of hot tea instead?”

Already, she picked up on one of my weaknesses. Unlike Solas, I  _ loved _ tea. Almost any kind of tea with the exception of fast food sweet tea. Or what I like to call, diabetes in a cup. Reluctantly, I caved in with a chagrined smile. 

“All right. But whatever you can find is well appreciated.”

“Would you like anything with it?”

“I’m fond of mint tea or plain tea with a bit of honey in it-but again  _ don’t _ trouble yourself if it’s not readily available Renan.” 

“It’s no trouble at all for you, my lady!”

Pleased, she tore off. Alone again, I exhaled with a noisy puff of relief. A part of me still felt weird having someone else dealing with fetching my meals, keeping the fire going, helping me to dress, style my hair and even bathe. It all made me feel like a child but some of the garments I honestly had no clue how to put on correctly at first. Instead of buttons and zippers, there were numerous ties and hooks involved. None of the materials except leather had any give. 

Even toiletries were a bit different here. They still had soap but a variety of fragrant powders and oils were used instead of lotion, shampoo, and deodorant. They also had picks and small crude brushes for their teeth but no toothpaste or floss. Instead, they sprinkled a salty powder over bristles to remove plaque. Baking soda perhaps? Then used a strong alcohol of sorts to rinse. 

As I gave it a go each morning and evening I tried not to think too hard about what kind of animal the tough bristles came from. Tooth decay and loss were a far larger concern.

Small culture shocks aside, I reeled over what would be coming. Best case scenario I was going to lose my left hand along with some of my arm in about three years. Worst, if Solas was right, the mark would eventually kill me if everything else in this world didn't first. I could only hope he was wrong since, to his surprise, Ellana already survived thus far-at least physically.

I shuffled about the little cabin in a daze the first few days as I could only catch a few hours of sleep here and there. Oddly, I had no dreams. But then again I was not looking forward to any torments and temptations the demons of the Fade would have in store for me. I assumed the reason as to why I had yet to reach it was due to an inability to fall into the deepest stage of sleep. With no box fan for my brain to latch onto every noise, my more keen ears heard, startled me awake again and again. 

The weirdest thing of all was I felt little hunger or even the need to use the chamber pot. I chucked it up to being elven and wondered if it was part of the reason why some horrible people found them to be ideal slaves. 

_ A race that needs very little food and doesn't make a mess as big as humans, oh yes what perfect slaves. Ugh... _

I grimaced at the terrible logic as I forced a few bites of each meal down. Even the food took some getting used to. It wasn't horrible just… different. The various mystery meats I had sampled were all gamey, overcooked, smoked or brined.

Since the idea of food going to waste was loathsome, I asked Rena to bring me smaller portions. However, she somewhat ignored the request. The amounts were reduced but the variety of sides increased. Different pickled veggies, breads, and jams. In addition to the meals, she left platters covered in handfuls of various kinds of nuts, dried fruits, crackers, cheeses along with small piles of fresh sliced carrots, radishes and sausages.

The food remained mostly untouched but I managed to stay hydrated at least. I took small comfort in the warm mint tea Renan kept bringing. 

Still numb and homesick I let go of any pride and put up no arguments when she fussed to help me get up and ready each day. I would say little but I made sure to at least thank her before she left.

When I wasn’t struggling with the day to day little things, in between crying my eyes out, I started writing. The crude thick lead mechanical pencil and eraser Cullen lent me days ago helped immensely.

At first, I puzzled over such a simple, familiar and yet a foreign thing to this world. Thankfully, Cullen chucked up my confusion to Ellana's Dalish origins. With a playful smile, he even demonstrated how it worked.

"Like this. It's strange I know but it’s very easy to use compared to charcoal or a quill. Less messy too. Just be careful with it."

"Of course, thank you. But where exactly did this come from? Who came up with it?"

"Technically, this is yet another loan from Varric. Hawke and he started making them a few years ago. The Champion of Kirkwall and The Hero of Ferelden are both inventors of a sort."

"Oh?" I questioned as my mind filled with more.

_ Does this mean Garret and Neria are other players too? Have they changed anything beyond what can be done in the game? Why didn't they try to stop the Temple from blowing up? _

"Varric is their business partner and together they have introduced a number of innovations approaching a decade now," Cullen went on jerking me back to the present. "Are you unwell Herald?"

"I'm fine why?"

"You're trembling for starters."

"Cold," I lied automatically.

Cullen gave me an unconvinced look but then the room was close to stifling. Instead of calling me out he cleared his throat and promised, "I’ll send for more wood to be delivered to your cabin then. As for these, they're selling well. At least among the merchant cast and other tradesmen. We are awaiting delivery of more but it will take a few weeks. Varric was kind enough to offer them at cost and give us some time to collect enough to make a payment. They're expensive but perfect for marking on maps because with this end you can gently rub away any mistakes." 

Crude erasers aside, I quickly put all hope of perfect spelling, grammar or even writing in a straight line aside. It had been a near-decade since I put pencil or pen to paper in any amount larger than a quick note or signature. As I struggled away I began to miss the glowing screen and editing tools of my various devices dearly.

"Maker I hate this. Should have asked Cullen if Garrett and Neria invented the typewriter while they're at it," I complained as my hand started to cramp up for the second time in an hour.

At least I had plenty of paper to spare thanks to a mysterious delivery of it after a hasty knock. The wax cloth-wrapped package had me puzzled at first. Normally, Rena dropped off all the deliveries. If not her a scout or templar would remain. But the moment I opened the parcel, upon the stoop, I had a delighted suspicion of who dropped it off. Varric, however, was nowhere in the scattered crowd to be found.

But thanks to him I was getting everything that I could remember from the game down. All in the Latin alphabet and I could only hope nobody would understand it. It was a risk but if I was going to be here for months or years I wasn't about to trust that I could remember it all. If anything, the exercise helped me feel more confident as I started to recall more and more little details with each new draft. Finished and work in progress ones I hid away. Rough drafts, once recopied more neatly and organized, I burned. 

I also worked on a more detailed map tracing of the Hinterlands. Cullen had drawn it up and an Inquisition recruit delivered it the next morning. The first attempt we had spent only a few hours on. I just marked some locations that sprung to mind. Cullen jotting down notes to each one in between explaining some of the map's symbols along with confirming locations.

"Trebuchets!" He perked up when I mumbled off a list of resources to be found in the Southwest corner of the map. He put down his notes and loomed over my shoulder in his haste to look where I marked.

It set off that odd little panic again. Plus Cullen smelled nothing like the soy candle I had bought back home. But then I too was in sore need of a bath at the time as well. Still, I found his shiny new toy reaction amusing. With a small laugh, I sidestepped out of the way to point the spot out for him.

"Got your attention did I?"

"Just wondering if we could make use of them. Where are they exactly?"

"Here, at this manor, I think it was in the hills. It looks a bit rough, perhaps abandoned by its previous owners but it might be overrun by bandits by now."

"How many did you spot?"

"Two at least, one put together. Could they be relocated to Haven?"

Cullen brooded over the idea but shook his head. "It could take months to move them. It will be quicker and more cost affordable for now to just construct any we need here. Perhaps we could at least secure them where they are until we decide where to relocate them to."

"Well that's one way to keep one's eggs in more than one basket," I agreed as he gave me a confused look. "It's an expression. It's never a good idea to keep anything all in one place in case something were to happen."

"Ah-a c-common one among your people?" His tone was hesitant and curious. It made the outrage and defensiveness that did not quite feel like my own instantly bubble into humor.

_ Oh, you have no idea Cully-wully-bear. Thank the Maker I'm a Dalish elf now. Slip and say anything weird from Earth they'll just chuck it up to that!  _ I mentally sighed in relief and grinned up at him. 

"You could say that," I quipped aloud with a soft and playful smile.

We both relaxed around one another more after that. We kept at the map for a little while longer until Cullen was called away by a runner. But not before he walked me to my four armed templar escorts.

Today, I gave surveying and note taking a break. Instead, I read or tried to. A small comfort was I could understand the various kinds of written languages Josephine had given me. Most were in the Common or the King's tongue. Some of the tomes contained a flowing script that made cursive seem simple. Others reminded me of Futhark runes.

How did I understand it all? Only one theory came to mind as I marveled over the foreign letters and they translated with little to no effort. Apparently, Ellana was a huge language nerd whereas I in the past struggled to barely pass high school Spanish.

As for what happened to the real Ellana Lavellan I tried not to think about it too hard. Yet the possibilities still nagged at me whenever I found myself taking a small break from reading or writing.

Did we switch bodies? Or was she locked away in the corner of our now shared mind? Are we something like Flemeth and Mythal now? Or did Ellana’s soul move on? Was my old human body back on Earth still alive or dead? Could I ever return to my old life again? Did I even want to go back? 

Things were depressing, difficult and dull there but at least far safer. I tried not to worry about what would happen to my aging parents as I knew at least one of my siblings could step up and make sure they would be well cared for. The fact I had no children, no significant other or even pets left behind was another small comfort.

Upon waking up on the third day, still in Haven, I realized I could not continue to hide. For now, I put aside all hopes I would just wake up back at home in my cozy and perpetually unmade bed. And no amount of books, writing, sleep or tea could distract me from what I had to do next.

After all, I would need to leave this cabin eventually and face  _ him _ .

“Damn Egg,” I cursed aloud but also with grudging affection. 

He had been my Lavellan’s love interest in my first and only completed playthrough. During that time I came to care about him a great deal. Well, as much as one could for a fictional character. One: who lied by omission. Two: who thought it would be a brilliant idea to let his orb fall into Corypheus’ hands in order to get it opened. And three: held other machinations to let civilizations burn in the “raw chaos” once he tore down the Veil all so his people and spirits could return. But this Solas would be, probably in his own words, “infinitely more complex.” That and he was not the only love interest in Thedas which entertained me over the years.

Not all of them mind you as some reminded me of family. Dorian and the Iron Bull were like brothers to me and I felt were meant for one another. Thom looked and acted just a little too much like my father in his prime to think about him in any romantic way. Sera was like the daughter or little sister I wished for but never had.

And yes, I had a serious crush on Cassandra but my male and female Inquisitors never got past the point of flirting. Plus I shipped her too much with Varric of all people or somehow Galyan did not die at the Conclave. With a mischievous grin, I wondered if I could now start to give the author and warrior little nudges in the right direction. If I lived long enough, as the tension, after all, was definitely there at least in the game.

I also had a small almost entirely platonic crush on Cole too but I understood why he wasn't a love interest for the Inquisitor. He was in no shape to deal with the complexities of a sexual relationship for most of the game. At most I shipped him with a non-Inquisitor original character of mine who was equally emotionally vulnerable. And even then, they did not consummate the relationship until at least a half year later after Corypheus was defeated. 

Then there was Josephine. I liked her story but sadly, never got around to romancing her. That and I did not want to even risk getting on Leliana’s bad side or get in the way of Thom’s wooing.

Finally, there was Cullen. The forbidden fruit ship. A mage and a templar. An elf and a human. How could I say no to that delicious drama?

Even with my main Inquisitor, who romanced Solas, I could not help but head cannon that she was also secretly in love with Cullen too. However, she  _ never _ acted on it. At least not until many years after Solas took off or got himself killed. Still, I didn't bother much with the story idea as I didn't know what was coming in the fourth installment of the series. Most of all I could not deal with the possible idea of Solas’s demise much less write about it.

Did I have her flirt with Cullen? Oh yes, every chance I could get! But alas over the infamous game of chess, when she tried to suggest they could spend more time together, Cullen mentioned Solas. Instead of looking at it as her locked into a relationship, due to a game mechanic, I imagined she took it as a subtle hint. Or better put, she assumed Cullen wasn't interested in her in that way due to the fact that she was an elf and if not that a mage. Yes, the dreaded they misunderstand each other trope.

I indulged in the daydream for a few more moments as I readied to finally leave the cabin. The sexual tension slowly growing between Cullen and Lavellan through the years leading up to Trespasser. The slowest of burns filled with lingering looks, accidental touches, and ever-growing mutual pining. 

With a bite to my lower lip, I thought about the breaking point. When Solas finally goes too far and she has had enough. How she at long last realizes it truly is over and she’s more than ready to move on. And when Josephine and Leliana leave the war room, Cullen notices she remains. To the anger and frustration that pours out of her, he tries to offer comfort. One thing leads to another, the truth of their feelings finally come out and then they at long last give into their feelings right there on that big war table.

But just when things were getting good and making me squirm, I pushed it away with a frustrated sigh. With guilty a frown, I got up and scolded, “Forget it. This isn’t a game anymore. He’s real and going through lyrium withdrawal. He needs help with that from friends not sexually harassed by me. Plus I’ll probably get myself killed by tripping over my own two damn feet in the Hinterlands while picking some elfroot. And I’m sure as shit not entering Solavellan hell. I can resist the Egg! I can be strong! Plus, aside from being an elf now I still doubt I’m his type. I’m probably nowhere near as tactful, elegant and graceful as Ellana would have been.”

It took a few more minutes of some vigorous pep talk, and admittedly some frantic primping too, before I dared to leave the cabin for the first time in days. Honestly, just the idea of saying hello to the Bringer of Nightmares, who also happened to have a nerdy laugh that always melted the ice surrounding my scarred and bitter heart, felt terrifying enough. But I really had no choice. I needed someone to teach me how to use magic. 

Vivienne and Dorian, after all, would not join up until later. And as far as I knew, the only other mage currently in Haven was Solas. Even if any others did survive the blast I doubted I could trust them to keep their mouths’ shut. Lastly, how could I turn down anyone whose experience is “far beyond any circle mage?”

Thankfully, it did not take long to find him since the village was pretty much laid out like in Inquisition rather than in Origins. Granted it was a bit bigger and with more cabins up in the surrounding hills. 

As I made my way to him I offered polite greetings, awkward waves, nods, and smiles to anyone who called out “Herald” or “Your worship.” Some of the locals and pilgrims even tried to strike up a conversation or ask for a blessing but they were gently nudged away by two Inquisition scouts who trailed after me at a distance the moment I left my cabin.

“Great… I have babysitters,” I complained under my breath but understood why they were needed. Haven may be the new Inquisition's headquarters but they were not going to let the only person who could seal rifts wander off-at least not without supervision.

  
I let out a big sigh of relief when I spotted Solas busy speaking with Rena at the top of the stairs just outside of his lodgings. She would make an excellent buffer between the both of us or so I thought. But when she spotted me coming, she paled, gave a quick little nod to Solas and tore off without so much as a hello or goodbye to me. 

_ So she’s one of his eh? Fantastic…  _ I guessed internally and hid my worry under a forced grin. 

Too late I realized, I should not have hesitated at the bottom of the stone steps. Because what little confidence I had started to crumble away the moment he turned around and our eyes met. 

In the game, I found him handsome but in the flesh he was… breathtaking. No, I literally forgot how to breathe. My jaw in the meantime dropped a little and my gaze shamelessly raked down his tall muscular silhouette. His humble attire did little to diminish his appearance. A quiet authority and divine grace radiated from his every move. 

_ Sweet Maker, it's really him. The Dread Wolf and he’s even hotter than in the… Well shit, I’m so utterly screwed! Must… resist! _

Aside from the materials being just a little bit darker and rougher looking, all of his clothing matched what he wore whenever off mission. Even right down to his jawbone pendent. For a moment my gaze lingered over the parts of his sweater which stirred in the wind before meandering down his strong lean legs. When he stood a little taller, tucked his arms behind his back and cleared his throat loudly, I finally snapped out of it. 

Caught ogling him, in all of his hobo glory, I blushed and dropped my eyes. Next, I worked on picking up my jaw and trying but failing miserably at coming off lost. As I cleared my own throat, I entertained the idea to make a run for it, back to my cabin. Just casually inform Cassandra and the others that as the Herald I could not possibly be expected to fight or leave Haven. Ever. But when I risked another glance I found he had moved on to study the Breach. 

Not being under his gaze did help. As I forced myself to climb the steps I mentally coached away.

_ Breathe… nice and easy. You need his help and he needs yours, remember? He’s all yours so long as he thinks you can help him defeat Corypheus and get his orb back. You can do this-just pretend he’s an ordinary guy. Yep, just a boring guy-very boring. Literal fresco paint drying, hates tea, has an-an adorable Fade nerd laugh-stop it! Yep, he reads and naps too much old fuddy-duddy! Slow deep breaths _ ...

“Good morning, Solas!” I offered upon reaching the top of the steps and winced. Already I sounded entirely too chipper and breathy.

_ Ugh, stop fangirling! Be cool!  _ I mentally scolded and cleared my throat again when he didn't turn around to face me.

“Actually, it’s around noon Mistress Lavellan. Or would you prefer I address you by your newest title: the Herald of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all?”

My brain stalled out for a few seconds. Like the others I had met so far, his voice was a little different than the one found in the game. Still lovely but enough to painfully remind me of the deadly, delicate and very real situation we were now all in.

My mouth worked a bit before I could sputter out, “H-how about just um-ah… Elly? I’m hardly riding in on a griffin after all!”

His brows lifted in interest as he nodded and at last turned to me. “True, especially since they are now sadly extinct.” 

"For now," I slipped but recovered quickly. "I mean the dragons were thought to be once too, right?"

"Unlikely this world would be so fortunate twice. But one can still hope," he agreed, cracked a grin but it fell quickly away to a frown. 

I followed his gaze as it returned to the Breach. As we watched it slowly swirl and flash high above an ominous sensation filled me, similar to watching worrisome storm clouds approach upon the horizon only tenfold. My left hand started to ache as I felt the vortex tug at it even from this distance. An overwhelming yearning filled my entire being. Sera's game comments about staring into it were starting to make sense now.

“It's...” I shook my head and forced myself to look away. “So ah... good view of it from here,” I tried for small talk when the silence got too weird.

“Good? Hardly. A terrible one for too many I’m afraid. Tell me, are you quite done lounging about in your cabin being pampered and waited upon? You are aware we are leaving the day after tomorrow. Have you readied at all for the task ahead?”

I was partly grateful for the scolding questions. As they helped incinerate every last butterfly fluttering around in my stomach to dust. 

_ Why you arrogant, assuming, know it-wait, is he…  _

All of my higher brain functions ceased at the twinkle of mischief in his periwinkle eyes as he gave a sly smirk. 

“Um,” I floundered for a few seconds before I could playfully throwback, “No, not at all! You know, I’d really wanted to be out of my cabin sooner too. Just  _ love _ getting fawned over by the fateful masses but then dear sweet Rena insists upon bathing, dressing and hand-feeding me grapes every morning. Why by the time she’s done pampering me all I want to do is crawl back into bed and go back to sleep. It's not at all about missing my home and feeling utterly useless along with completely out of place here. No-not one bit.” 

As his grin grew at my sarcasm, I crossed my arms, shivered and tried to at least appear relaxed. Too bad the damn butterflies were already starting to rise from the ashes.

“Joke if you must but she’s concerned about you. We all are. Since you stabilized the Breach and declared the Herald of Andraste you’ve changed considerably.”

My smile wavered but I managed to lightly ask, “Oh? H-how so? Was I not this ray of sunshine before?”

“Ah no. But none of us know you well enough to offer a full assessment of your character. Varric on the way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes placed you from the Free Marches but your accent now is rather peculiar. You have also become far more cooperative and polite even than before. At least so I have heard from Rena, others and with my own eyes.”

I squirmed a little under his scrutiny. I asked myself yet again,  _ What happened to the real Ellana? Am I already blowing my cover? What was she like? Diplomatic? Humorous? Aggressive?  _

Most of all, I wondered why I woke up in Haven after the Breach had been stabilized rather than on my knees and facing one very furious Seeker. Or worse, waking up physically in the Fade and running for my life from giant spiders. Before I could think of what to say he went on. 

“Possibility of the strain you were under aside, what captures my attention the most is you… feel different.”

“Feel? You mean my magic?” I guessed and started to sweat despite the cold weather beginning to get to me.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“M-maybe it's just the mark? At least it's dormant for the most part now,” I added and tried to shrug off the concern.

“I find it unlikely such a radical change would occur even from stabilizing the Breach alone. Your near-death and what was needed to be done to save you is a more likely explanation. Regardless, did you need something?”

_ Wait… Ellana nearly died? What needed to be done? Is that why I'm here? Still how? Why me? Did he do this? Does he know I'm not her? Shit! What should I do? _

The internal questions kept coming as I opened and closed my mouth a few times in shock. At my inaction a sudden urge to shove him against the nearest wall and demand answers had my hands balling into fists. I almost gave into it until I remembered I had been followed. 

Solas watched on, braced for an outburst or worse. I let out a nervous huff and took a second or so to shake away any further utterly alien violent impulses towards Solas and recenter. A few more to push down the panic as how an interrogation could possibly play out dissolved to a vision of halla, of all things, peacefully grazing by a stream. Real living breathing ones not of light and numbers but an actual memory. Before I could process all the details of the vision his voice snapped me back to reality.

"Herald?"

_ Okay, that was super weird! Worse than the jitters I get around Cullen. _

I silently reeled. Everything seemed brighter now as my temples started to pound while I gave a discreet glance about us. Thankfully, Leliana’s people seemed nowhere to be found. Just in case they were spying in and could read lips, I moved a little closer to Solas. Paranoia aside, I dropped my voice and rubbed at the sides of my forehead. My arms hopefully shielding my mouth from view.

“I'm fine. Just a small headache. What I need is what you brought up actually. Can we talk in private?”

I felt alluding to suffering from some kind of memory loss was the only way to let everyone know why I needed some extra help when it came to the most basic of things. The fact it would also explain away Ellana's radical personality change would be just an added bonus. Plus I did not know if admitting the truth would be wise-let alone believed.

“Why?” he asked and looked around in disinterest as I gave a few false starts. Then it dawned on me, he too held concerns over us being overheard.

“Well um…” I paused to take a deep breath. With a finger and thumb, I rubbed at the pressure points under the start of my brows and admitted, “You're right. Ever since I woke up after stabilizing the Breach you could say I  _ am _ different. To be honest, I don’t recall much of my life before being taken, prisoner. Other things are a bit… spotty too. Like did we take the mountain path or-” When his eyes widened in possible alarm I dared to step even closer and rushed on with, “Look… I’m telling you all this first because, Herald or not, I don’t think a bunch of Chantry folk would take the news of a clueless mage at my age running around all that well. And I’m hoping you could teach me how to use my abilities as I do not wish to become a danger to myself and more importantly anyone else.”

Whatever concern his face held morphed to an odd fake cheerfulness by the time I finished. It gave me a chill as I had seen a similar look like that before. Specifically, when his grieff fell away to thoughts of revenge after ending Wisdom’s suffering.

“Fascinating, would you care to come in and join me for some tea or other refreshments Herald?”

“Wha-tea? But you don’t-" I barely bit back the rest. 

At my hesitation, he extended his hand and loudly urged, “Please I would be honored to discuss my observations of the Breach’s fluctuations and how they correlate with your mark.”

It took a few seconds before I finally worked out what he was doing and played along. “Oooh right! It’s been acting up. Could you take a look at it?” I next fumbled a bit as I shyly took his hand and gave another nervous look around.

When he squeezed it and gently pulled me along all thoughts of Leliana’s spies fell away.

_Wow,_ _I’m actually holding hands with Solas… Fen’Harel. We’re holding hands and he’s leading me to his private quarters… to have tea. How lovely… I do wonder if he’ll make that same icky face. Ugh, stop smiling like a love-struck idiot! Stop trembling else he's going to notice._

I managed to barely hold back a giddy giggle and cleared my throat again. Only when the door clicked shut behind us did he drop the act and, to my great disappointment, my hand too.

“Please feel free to sit,” he suggested and gestured to a bench by the fire. “We have much to discuss. Know that I do commend your wisdom in bringing this matter to me first but sooner would have been far more prudent.”

Without pause, I took a seat and muttered, “You’re lucky I came to you at all.”

“And to whom would you have turned to instead?” He grinned as he gave a soft knowing chuckle to my frown. “You were at least right in they will indeed not take the news of your loss of experience in magic well. The Commander especially had and may still harbor some rather backward views regarding mages.”

“So we don't fill them in on that part. Understood,” I assumed and watched him nod in somber agreement.

“However the other aspects of your memory loss will need to be presented carefully. Especially given the information about the Hinterlands you've already provided to Commander Cullen.”

“Oh yeah, the maps… oops. Well, I did tell him it was a bit of a blur going through the area and I would try to remember. So was that what you two were talking about earlier?”

“Pardon?”

“Don't be coy. Rena and you. Just how much detail does she go into, on what I can and cannot do? For starters, how I didn't have a clue when it came to dealing with whatever the heck these are called?” I asked and without thinking pointed at the internal hook and eye fastenings of my taupe jerkin.

He glanced at my chest but quickly averted his eyes to the fire. His cheeks and ears pinkened as he admitted, “Yes. One of Rena’s many tasks is to monitor your behavior and health then report her findings to me. After you stabilize the Breach Master Adan was all too happy to hand over your continued care to us as he still has a multitude of patients to oversee. As he puts it, he's an alchemist, not a nursemaid, better with explosives than poltices.”

I startled a bit when he dropped a blanket over my shoulders from behind next.

“You were trembling, can I get you something warm to drink? Rena mentioned you enjoy tea but-”

“Yes, cold. I'm very cold. I'll take whatever you have warm to drink," I blurted out a little too loud to sound convincing. In truth, I was more nervous than anything.

"In that case, here. Try this."

Sheepishly, I pulled the blanket tighter around me and accepted the offered steaming mug. It warmed my hands wonderfully but the mouthwatering smell wafting off of it had me gasping, "Is… is this hot cocoa?"

"If you prefer tea instead…" he trailed off to an amused half snort when he reached out and my grip tightened upon the cup. "To answer your question yes. I'm surprised you know of it as it's not common in these parts or affordable. Most also find it far too sweet."

I savored the first sip instead of explaining myself. He was right, it was very sweet. I usually went for coffee or tea over hot cocoa. But now, in this world, I would not pass over any kind of treat I could get my chocoholic hands on. 

"Thank you for sharing this with me," I admitted and peeked up at him gratefully. "Did you make it? It's the best I've ever tasted."

For a moment he was taken aback by the compliment before he pressed on with, "Yes. So you remember having this before?"

I nodded and indulged in a full mouthful even though the cup was small. With a happy sigh, I rolled the chocolate around over my tongue. It tasted almost like home on a cold winter's night only better. This wasn't the mass-produced powdered stuff with marshmallows. No, it was handmade with notes of buttercream, vanilla, cinnamon, and honey. With the mug over half empty, I held it just under my nose to warm it but also keep smelling the rich concoction.

"I know I've had this before. I just can't recall the last time I've had it. Years at least," I murmured truthfully.

"Please, can you tell me more about what you do remember about yourself? The ritual that was needed to preserve the mark, do you recall anything about it?” He asked as he settled down on the bench beside me all of his earlier humor was gone. 

I paused in debate on whether or not to tell him at least some of the truth. That I was not of Thedas as I tried to leisurely sip the rest of the hot cocoa. If anyone could wrap their mind around where I came from and not freak out it would be Solas. But he was also the riskiest person to open up to. Without meaning to, I could tell him just enough to have him at least theorizing I had some knowledge of what could come. Worst I could be seen as more of an obstacle than of use like Felassan. Another piece on the board to be sacrificed. The memory of his friend's almost certain death made me shiver harder. 

As an ancient, Solas was far more clever and experienced than anyone and my only edge in thwarting his plans would be to literally play The Game and try to keep a few moves ahead. If anything I needed to bluff. Decided, I took a deep breath and began.

“I know I’m from clan Lavellan. They-ah we travel about the Free Marches. I’m Keeper Deshanna’s First and I was sent to the Conclave to gather information for them. What kind of information exactly? I’m not sure. I assume my clan was concerned over what actions the Chantry would take when it comes to mage rights and what the templars next move would be. Or maybe I was just there to find any information on..." 

In my mind's eye, I saw flashes of a map of the Free Marches being hastily unfurled, Ellana's hands spreading a thin sheet over it and tracing the lines as others with tattooed faces urged her to hurry. Without thinking I wondered aloud, "Oh no. I-I don't think I was alone when…" 

An elven woman's face flushed with irritation as she pestered in a stage whisper,  _ "Fine, don't listen to me! Go look! But at least give me your map and be quick about it because I'm not going to lie for you. Your brother is going to be livid when I tell him you're sticking your neck out to help some feeble sounding shemlen." _

_ Brother? Ellana had a brother? Is he still alive? _

I wondered as a bubble of self-loathing anger rose up and quickly encased the despair that bloomed suddenly in my chest.

"What is it? Who was with you?"

"I'm not sure." I shook my head to dispel the upsetting questions for now. "Others of my clan I think. I heard someone calling out for help and stayed behind to investigate it. I don't know if they made it out and I don’t recall what happened prior to the explosion. So far I've had no memories of what it was like growing up among my clan or... if I have any relatives still alive. Zip.”

“Zip?” He rolled the foreign word around in his mouth a few times more and I started to sweat. As he shifted on the bench next to me, he asked, “So you would not recognize anyone from your clan?”

“Nope,” I drawled out slowly and swallowed hard. Too late I realized I used yet another slang word and hastily added, “I-I mean no. I don't know.”

“Yet you can recall your Keeper’s name. What of your parent’s names?” To my helpless shrug, he hummed, “Fascinating.”

“Maybe for you. For me, the word is frightening. Look… I can’t explain what happened Solas,” I truthfully admitted. With a slouch, I added, “I’ve been spending these last few days trying to figure things out. Trying to hold it together or at least put on a brave face and look at the positives. I’m still alive and-well mostly functional. I can read and write. In fact, I've started to go over some of the books from the mountain Josephine gave me. So I wasn’t just lounging about doing nothing. Plus the only reason why I had Rena helping me at all was due to all the shock I was in and I needed to-well relearn some things.”

“Waking up, confused and far away from your people to a world that is in chaos. I can understand how difficult that must be,” he murmured as his sympathetic gaze turned back to the fire.

I tried to think of something comforting to say or do without showing my hand as I finished the cocoa. But before I could and as I set the cup aside the pain in his expression hardened into determination.

“I will instruct you. Hopefully, the lessons will help you recall previous training. As for your memory issues, I think it would be best to allow me to speak with them on your behalf.”

“Only if I am there with you Solas. Oh, don't worry. I know when to keep my mouth shut-well most of the time.”

Seconds passed by as he debated the idea before with reluctance he gave in.

“Very well. I just have one more question. When Renan gave you a mirror, you grew upset upon seeing your reflection. You ordered her very curtly to leave, why?”

“Oh that… she told you about that too, huh? Great,” I mumbled and rubbed a thumb into the mark. Unable to meet his eyes I let mine wander about his room as I decided what to say.

Surprisingly, it was a little messy with a few of his garments hanging from his bed frame. A footwrap and the contents of his pack were spilled out on the floor. I grinned at spying a wooden comb and what looked like a shaving kit among the chaos. Every surface was cluttered with books, papers and other materials for writing except for the table by the door. It was instead covered in fragrant greens and roots in the process of being chopped and ground up. From the beams above more plants were hung to dry.

“Herald?”

“Never pegged you as someone to be so... messy. You come off the more all buttoned up and neurotic tidy sort,” I mumbled aloud which caused him to color again.

“In my defense, I did not anticipate any company and you are avoiding the question.”

True, I did not want to talk about it. Granted, I did not hate my new face. It was stunning, at least to me, yet friendly and kind. A softness to her that contrasted the looks of Fen'Harel was no mistake. I spent at least an hour, if not more, tweaking every slider and trying out all kinds of color combinations. All until I ended up with a look that made me feel happy. 

I now had natural instead of dyed auburn hair. My eyes were still a shade of blue and green with little bits of brown about the pupils. But my irises were now far brighter. However, what I didn't have before was freckles, a cute little nose, full lips and a delicate dark chocolate colored Mother of Halla vallaslin. 

On some level, I felt grateful that at least I looked familiar. But bearing a striking resemblance to my only Inquisitor who romanced Solas and completed the game along with all its expansions a few times was worrisome at the very least.

All of my other numerous Inquisitors only flirted with him at most for easy approval whenever possible. To make matters worse I had been unable to fully romance anyone else. Not even the promise of a happier ending with Cullen was enough motivation for me to play through everything to the very end again with another Inquisitor or even a lookalike of my Elly. I could not even finish the game again, romancing Solas with a different Lavellan. It just felt wrong.

To my great embarrassment, I had tried and failed to move on from Solas. As a result, I made dozens upon dozens of Inquisitors but more times than not I would lose interest in them before they even reached Skyhold. I felt little-if any connection with them. Instead, I only got the urge to load up a save right before Solas took Ellana out upon the balcony. All to play out my favorite kiss one more time. Their first real kiss.

_ “Ar lath ma vhenan…”  _ his character's voice echoed through my mind as the living and breathing version of him waited patiently for me to speak with a concerned expression. Would he ever say those words to me now? I seriously doubted it. Did I want him to? I shouldn't. 

He was after all still the antagonist. A threat greater than Corypheus. Feelings for the Dread Wolf aside I was still the protagonist. Plus he always came off to me as a sleek wasp type and even now in Ellana’s slender body I still felt like a clumsy bumblebee.

“I ah… what I saw was familiar but... it-it didn't feel like it was really me,” I offered as much truth as possible.

Strangely, the tension in his frame eased as if I somehow gave him the right answer. With a sympathetic smile, he reassured, “I can more than imagine how disconcerting that would be. To wake up and to not fully recognize yourself or the world around you. For you, I shall stay and help."

"You thought of leaving?"

With far less ire than his fictional equivalent, Solas explained, "Unlike you, I do not have a divine mark upon my hand to protect me."

"I won't let them leash any of us. What the Circles were before this war must not come to pass again."

"And what will you do to stop them?"

"I'd leave with you and anyone else who wished to join us with as few casualties as possible. 

"Thank you." He paused to analyze my answer as I did not offer him the promise of whatever it takes. 

"I have no desire to hurt people," I rushed to clarify.

Gently he informed, "Ideal as that is if one's intentions are to kill, you may need to readjust them. Capture too can prove more painful than death. But come, let us put aside such a grim subject for a lesson later. We should go now. The sooner they are informed the sooner we can begin your training.”

When he offered his hand to me again I did not hesitate to take. The fear in my heart easing if only a little bit.


	6. They took the news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you may have seen in the previous chapter comments, I suffered a great loss in April. I was on the verge of posting this lengthy chapter days before my father decided to enter into hospice care. Between his passing and this year's grim worldwide events, my muse went into hiding and I honestly shut down a bit. But now I'm feeling up to posting this chapter instead of waffling over the details in order to move on to more. 
> 
> If any sentences come off clunky or if you see a typo please feel free to point the errors out. I might come back later and tweak a few things but not anytime soon as I want to tackle the next few chapters first.
> 
> Ir da'len - I am a child  
Mythal lasa ghilan - Mythal guide me (more or less)  
Ma nuvenin - As you say/wish  
Ma Serannas - Thank you

They took the news of my partial memory loss as well as expected. As promised I didn't say a word unless they asked me something directly. Most of my answers I kept short or shrugged and looked to Solas to lie for us. He was the resident expert at it after all. 

Thankfully, Leliana decided to not bring up Butler and Farrier. But it also could have meant she already discussed her suspicions of my “vision” with Cullen, Josephine, and Cassandra. Her gears were certainly turning as she kept looking back and forth between Solas and myself.

_ Yeah, two elven mages who happen to pop up when everything is falling apart? It's a wonder they haven't leashed us with phylacteries or worse yet… _

I worried away and rubbed nervously at the center of my forehead.

After they tired of questioning us, Solas brought up our need to practice. Thankfully, nobody gave it a second thought. 

At the forge, outside the village walls, we were given what we would need. But just my luck when I touched a staff, for the very first time, it whooshed to life. Flames engulfed the synth hook on the end and, with a small panicked yelp, I immediately dropped it. Much to my relief and embarrassment, the fire died away before it even hit the icy dirt. Harritt however, jumped back and muttered a few curses under his breath as it had landed inches from his feet.

The old me would have gushed out one apology after another. But now, still reeling over how all of this was indeed real, I could only numbly watch on as Solas calmly picked it up and returned it to the rack. 

“Something simple, nothing too powerful, ice would… " he trailed off as his fingers brushed over the grips and inspected each one critically. Over his shoulder, he requested, "We require some walking sticks if it's not too much trouble.” 

Harritt with a grunt left us for a moment to fetch them as Solas, upon selecting another, gestured to me to turn around. 

“Ir da'len,” I grumbled and hugged myself. 

As he snapped the staff into the holster, of the harness he helped me put on moments earlier, he agreed, “Indeed. You sound like one as your pronunciation is slipping.”

Any ideas of an equally rude but witty retort to throw back at him, I dropped as Harritt returned and handed me one of the walking sticks. The urge didn't feel right, or me, but the worry it stirred up I managed to push aside for the moment.

As we left the forge the air-cooled but not to an uncomfortable level. I chucked it up to no wind until I saw how the snowflakes blew around us and trees nearby creaked as they swayed. When we reached the frozen lake and veered off to the right, I wondered how Solas was going to train me. As two of Leliana’s people broke off from the training yard and now trailed after us. 

Even out of earshot of them I cryptically asked, “I take it you have something in mind given our audience?”

“As mages now among the Chantry it’s to be expected. The ones we cannot see however should garner far more concern. Still, you need not worry, da’lin we-”

“Blech… don’t. Please-please, don’t call me that ever again. I’m over forty,” I scolded gently before I could think twice. In my headcanon, Ellana may have been the same as my real age but she certainly didn't look like it. At most this body only had the finest of lines under the eyes and zero gray hairs.

Without a missed step he apologized, “I meant no insult. A mere habit due to most of whom I encounter nowadays are younger than me, including yourself.”

_ Now that is a major understatement! _I thought and huffed softly. 

Without pause, I shot playfully back, “For what it's worth you don't look it. You look about my age, are you?”

"Older," he answered as a corner of his lips twitched in what he thought was secret amusement.

"Well then, just how old are you?" I inquired, unable to resist a chance to get him to squirm. That and I needed to play the part of the oblivious Lavellan.

With an unreadable expression, Solas cleared his throat, tilted his hooded head towards one of the closer scouts, and not so smoothly changed the subject.

“Truthfully, I stopped counting, now what of your earlier concern?"

"Hum?" I grinned as he only grew more flustered.

This Solas was indeed far more complex and animated than his fictional counterpart. I tried and failed to not stare the tiny flares of his nostrils. The almost shy quirks of his shapely lips. The dilation of his pupils. All of his micro-expressions, I couldn't help but be captivated.

"The Spymaster’s people, although they are clever, I doubt will think of what we are doing is anything beyond the usual. If anyone asks we shall tell them the truth, that I am teaching you some of my methods in an effort to refine yours.”

“Oh yeah? Good thing they have no idea how utterly clueless I am. So, do I need to recite a spell or twirl the staff a certain way or is it all about will and focus?”

This had him chuckling, “My! Are you truly that blank of a canvas?”

“I know downright next to diddly squat now. I didn't even know I was a mage until Cassandra pointed out I was healing myself after I hugged her.” 

His lips parted. But before he could ask I babbled on, “The short of it is I was crying. Waking up here, of all places, with a spotty memory and everything…" I waved up at the Breach with a grimace. "I got a bit overwhelmed and it set her off too. The loss of the Divine and probably over her former-ah well… let’s say all the others she knew who died. So naturally, I gave her a hug but she’s rather strong and her breastplate is of course very hard. The spell that followed was like a reflex, I guess. But at least those rivets on her armor were not that sh-oh no. I'm doing it again."

His expression crumpled in pain. Too late, I realized I had just verbally rubbed salt into a fresh wound. One more unforeseeable consequence on his part that set into motion needless death and future suffering of countless others. Worse yet, I had no idea what to do as he had turned away, clearly in shame. 

We stood in uncomfortable silence until, over his shoulder, he offered, “Excuse me. I find myself… saddened over how everyone must face this, especially you. You do not deserve this burden. That mark on your hand, it stands to reason, was a mistake. Certainly not meant for you or anyone else. What happened was an unforeseeable tragedy.”

His voice held so much self-loathing. His expression, so defeated, I dared not move. When he looked on the verge of tears I whispered, “I know Solas… and appreciate you saying that. Especially, when everyone else seems to just fixate over how much the Mark is needed. Oh and this is well overdue and all but thank you... for saving me, helping me talk to them about all this and-and taking me on as a student of sorts. I'm sure together we can fix this mess.”

We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Before giving in to the urge to awkwardly pat him on the back or worse offer him a hug I instead extended my hand. He took the marked one in both of his and held it reverently instead as he struggled to regain his composure.

"You are far too kind," he declared but ruined it with the addition of, "and optimistic."

"And you're being rather grim and fatalistic far too soon. But then like it or not, we're in this together now," I playfully scolded and gave his hand a quick squeeze. A strange but not unpleasant tugging sensation lingered after I let go and started us off again. 

He hesitated for a moment then fell back in line a few steps behind me. Any traces of his distress seemed neatly folded away as if it was never there. It left me to wonder if what he just expressed was genuine or he simply knew how to compartmentalize.

_What if everything he does is an illusion-a carefully crafted lie to trick Lavallan or anyone into thinking he is a genuine friend? All so we pull our punches just enough for him to ruthlessly archive his goals? Betrayal from a friend is indeed always worse. _

I pushed the terrible possibilities and my personal experiences with it aside for now and focus upon the moment. The crunch of the hard snow under our boots. The steady rumble and green flashes in the sky. Oddly, I still felt no cold or breeze as the wind whistled about us. 

When I stumbled a little moments later he rushed to help me. Such a normal thing to do for anyone yet from him it felt surreal. Unlike the game, this Solas seemed far more emotional, I concluded. Nor did he talk in iambic pentameter. At least as far as I could tell. But then I could never figure out how to get that speech pattern right. More importantly, he was not a puppet made of ones and zeros. His words were his own and not carefully selected by a writer with a soft spot for the song _ Hallelujah _and a deadline.

No, He was real. And who could blame him fluctuating between giddy to despair? Given how phenomenally he screwed everything up, since forming the Veil, he was tackling the consequences far better than most. 

Softly his smile faded and he broke the silence with, “Elly." 

"Yes?" I blinked up at him, realized I had been staring and looked away with a blush as he let me go.

The weary sadness in his eyes was thankfully gone. Instead, they were lit up with a small delighted pride as he went on to lecture, "Back to your earlier question regarding casting. It all depends on what you wish to do. Some find words and gestures helpful to focus while others only need their will. The complexities of what you desire to happen can also be a factor as well.”

“Are there names for them? For spells I mean,” I added as we kept on walking. “Like um… what about barrier? Or fade step? Oooh please tell me there is a spell like that! One where if we're cornered we can just zip out of there!”

“Zip? There is that word again.”

As we continued to walk, over my shoulder I rambled, “It means go really fast. So fast it makes like a _ zip _ sound. Um probably-you know, an onomatopoeia. What? You never heard of that before?”

“Onomatopoeia? Ah no.”

“It’s a term for words that embody sounds, like... boom or pop.”

“Ah, I do know of another term for that. But from what I grasped of your earlier usage of the word, I thought zip only meant nothing.”

“Huh? Oh right. It means that too. It's just slang,” I assured and didn't dare meet his eyes.

“Slang,” he hummed but thankfully let the matter drop. “As for the names of spells each can vary from mage to mage, hence they can go by many different ones due to one's training or origin. For now, let's see what you can do without words first. We are a sufficient distance from Haven, ready your staff.”

I reached back to pull it free but it would not budge. With a blush and a grunt, I tried to tug it again in a different direction but still no success.

“Dammit, it should just pop free, right?” I muttered, twisted my head around to try and see what was wrong. Before I knew it, I caught myself going in circles like a dog chasing his tail.

“Mythal lasa ghilan. Else we are all doomed,” Solas sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

Mortified I puffed up and snapped, “Oh quit boo-hooing to her and help me you-you egg!”

“What did you just call me?” He did not sound at all amused by the pet name a majority of the fandom had given him.

“Shit-shit-shit,” I whispered under my breath after I turned away with a wince. I gave up on the staff and louder over my shoulder added, “I’m sorry. But in all fairness, I meant that with great affection.”

“Your tone upon delivery speaks otherwise.”

“I apologize. For what it's worth it only adds and in no way detracts from your handsome appearance,” I blurted out and gave a weak cough at what I was doing.

_Handsome? What? No. Nooo. Stop it. Do NOT flirt with the Dread Wolf! No! Bad girl! Bad! _ I mentally scolded as I shook my head. I next risked a peek and realized._ Oh no! Is he… is he actually blushing? Is he feeling self-conscious about being bald? _

Aloud I blundered on, “What? I mean it. You really are handsome!”

To this, his brows lifted in surprise and his jaw dropped a little. I turned away, face burning and started mentally chanting. _Ugh! Shadup! Shut up! Just shut the HELL up! This is why you’ve been single for a majority of your adult life and haven't been laid in over a year!_

When he said nothing, all my rattled brain could come up with was a line from Alistar’s playbook on _ How to Awkwardly Flirt With Someone _.

“Excuse me. I’ll just be over there until the blushing stops.” 

I started walking, not sure how else to salvage the situation and damn determined to not make it worse-if at all possible. After a few steps, I gained enough sense to throw down my walking stick and start to work on removing the stupid harness. Determined to get the damn staff off my back one way or another.

As my fingers started to fumble to loosen the buckles I heard him draw closer. My heart hammered harder at each step. With a stomp of my foot, I tried to mentally buck up. _Stop blushing! Stop thinking about his stupid nicely shaped head! Stupid handsome nosferatu wannabe face! Stupid perfectly pointed ears! Stupid pouty and beautiful-damn I really wanna kiss those lips! Just once Maker, please. Just to know how soft they are and-_

“Hold on Elly. May I take a look?”

“S-sure, knock yourself out.” I turned and he grunted. The staff on my back thwacked him in the calf. “Opps! Are you-"

“Stop. Moving,” he ordered with an understandable hint of annoyance.

Reluctantly, I quit fussing but kept my eyes on the sky, the snow, the trees, the chewing, and creepily staring rams-anywhere but him. Oddly, Leliana's people were now nowhere to be found. I heard him come up behind me again then felt small tugs on my shoulders as he tested the clasps.

“Hum... it appears this holster is relatively new and as such more force is sometimes required for the clasps to release the staff. It can be tricky. You will simply need to break it in.”

He was so close, too close and every little jerk on the straps about my shoulders somehow had my breast band shifting. All I could think to do was stammer, “G-good to know. So you’ll show me how to do that, right? The-the harness I mean-breaking it in?”

“Of course among other things. Ah, here we go,” he grunted as the staff finally popped loose. “It was wedged in there pretty tight.”

“I’ll say.” I pulled my mind out of the gutter and bit the insides of my still hot cheek. Once composed, I turned, and gingerly took the staff from him with a prim, “Thank you.” 

Any remaining embarrassment I had however was soon forgotten. I let out a small nervous whimper to the thin layer of ice that crackled and encased the macehead of the staff.

Quickly Solas assured, “Relax. This is merely an indication that the staff is in good working order. First contact can sometimes create this effect, especially for inexperienced mages such as yourself. However maintaining it, as you are, is a waste of your mana. Lesson one: withdraw your power from the staff. Use it instead to draw energy from the fade into you.”

“H-how?” I swallowed hard as the ice started to thicken. I held the head out and away from both of us nervously as if it would explode at any moment.

To that very thought, his eyes widened in concern as the crackling grew louder. Hastily, Solas next snatched the staff from me, and instantly the ice dissipated. It took him a few moments to calm down. When he handed me a walking stick it left me with a sneaking suspicion that if he had not taken the staff from me it would have indeed exploded ice everywhere injuring the both of us or worse.

“For starters, hold a staff like any walking stick or polearm. Remember it is but a tool. It helps us gather and channel our mana. Now close your eyes and try to connect with it.”

“But this is just a walking stick.”

With a grin, Solas teased, “How astute of you to notice. Although this tool lacks most of the components used to create a typical staff it still is one, albeit a dull one.”

“Great,” I sighed and rubbed a hand down my mouth. “So you taking the real one away from me just now was like snatching something very sharp and dangerous from a small child for you?”

“Aptly put Herald. Consider this a practice blade to use until you can handle a real one and not cut yourself or others with it unintentionally.”

“Elly,” I corrected but did what he instructed. A few minutes passed and I felt nothing. I kept my eyes shut but gave up with slouch and asked, “Okay what should it feel like? Should I even feel anything?”

I heard Solas take a deep fortifying breath before he added evenly, “First you must connect to the mana within you. Clear your mind from all distractions and focus inward and you will find it.”

“Then give me some space. I can’t concentrate with you hovering and don’t stare or talk. Your voice especially is um… very distracting,” I muttered and shooed him away. Once he moved a few feet off, I tried again and after a few breaths, I felt the power awaken in my chest. 

“Whoa-wow,” I gave with a moan of relief. My heart started to hammer again but this time in excitement as I felt the mana within me spread outwards to the roots of my hair, the tips of my ears, fingers, and all the way down to my toes. Despite my boots, I felt as if my feet were becoming rooted in the frozen earth and connecting to something much larger.

_ A titan maybe? Trace amounts of lyrium in the very soil? _I silently speculated.

“Yes. Good. That is one of many ways to draw power. But you will need to learn how to draw mana from the Fade itself if you wish to replenish it as you move in battle. Remember a staff is what helps most mages not only focus their abilities but also draw more power into them," Solas confirmed.

“It feels…” I had to bite back another moan. 

To put it simply I felt I had become more. My body hummed happily as if a forgotten part of me stretched out after being curled up into a tight ball for far too long. I had only felt like this a few times before in my old life. Similar to calm before a large storm and seeing the ocean for the first time but both experiences paled in comparison to this. 

A relief spread around me. At sensing his aura of mana, without thinking I let mine reach out and try to connect with his. Upon doing so he sucked in a breath, flushed, and trembled. A shock and yet longing void pulled at me. It felt as if I was upon an edge and one misstep would lead to falling into it. Worried I was doing something wrong I immediately pulled back and the sensations vanished. Unsure but brimming with curiosity I let the energy I gathered dance about just out of reach of his as I started to circle him. He hesitated but then I felt his collected mana follow along. 

The sadness in his gaze faded. He turned with me and gave a slow grin as I sensed his magic start to tug gently at mine. A longing overcame me again but with it joy. A surge of playful desire for more radiated out from me. I grinned back and soon it was as if we were rolling about. But to anyone watching we simply stood there smiling at one another. Yet in truth, our auras started to entwine. I gave a little laugh. My eyes slipped closed and all of my love, worry, frustration, and deep longing for him and this world inevitably surfaced. 

To this, his energy faltered as a small gasp escaped past his lips. Shock radiated again through our connection but then confusion before his mana slipped away. When he pulled it all back within himself I tried to coax him to release it again until he coughed softly. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and found his face flushed and him looking off to the side.

“Wha.. why did you stop? Solas that was… amazing doesn't even begin to cover it!”

His voice was thick as he whispered, “True but we… we should return to the lesson at hand. I will cover the intrinsics of connecting with other mages and the etiquette of sharing mana for later.”

“Was that what we were doing? Sharing mana?”

I genuinely had no idea what exactly happened. But then I remembered the moment in the game, just before the Breach was sealed shut for the first time with the help of the freed circle mages. How they were directed by Solas to channel their power.

_"Focus past the Herald! Let her will draw from you!"_

Such a small detail before felt like a revelation now. The complexities of magic aside I could hardly hold back my excitement and I didn't understand why he was suddenly acting like we had done something terrible.

The flush upon his face grew yet smoothly he answered, “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Wait, was I doing it wrong? How? And what did you mean by etiquette?” 

“Not entirely,” he answered readily but for some reason, he continued to avoid eye contact. It took him a few seconds to add, “Some however may prefer to approach the method with a clear mind free of any... distractions.”

This left me with a sneaking suspicion he was holding something back. I wondered at what until my brain latched onto the word sharing. With dread I realized, _ Those emotions I felt were his! Which means he... _

“Oh… oh dear,” I whispered and now I was the one who had trouble meeting his eyes.

Quickly he comforted, “You did nothing wrong. You simply lack knowledge. Many young mages tend to inadvertently share more than they wish at first. I too became carried away at the moment. The fault is mine, I apologize. I should not have-"

"No, I enjoyed it and you-you apparently already know that, and I ah..." I bite back the urge to ask if we could continue since he liked it too. I resisted taking one step closer to him. Instead, I suggested, "But you’re right, we probably should get back to practice. What's the next step?"

The relief upon his face unmistakable yet a trace of regret remained. When his features schooled seconds later he continued to instruct, "You must clear your mind first for this next task.”

I nodded and clung to the slim hope the feelings he sensed from me were just as vague as what I sensed from him. That I had not literally just declared how I felt about him and the cause for such emotions could be up for debate. For now, I put any further concerns aside, sobered as I took in the environment around us and struggled to do as he asked. Seconds passed before I felt his mana return. It felt lighter, cautious, and somehow clinical. It communicated no disgust or embarrassment, only concern as he somehow used it to soothe the fraying edges of my concentration.

“Well done,” Solas encouraged as he drew up beside me.

He calmed me to the point I could find my voice again to ask, “All right... now what?”

“See that fist-sized rock over there, upon the far larger one? When I tell you to, swing the walking stick at it. Channel the power you have within you out from your center to your hands and into the wood. Hit only the stone and nothing else when you are ready.”

It already trembled under my glare. I could not hide my awe as I asked, “Am I really doing that?”

“Yes,” he whispered nearby. “Now use your will to simply hit it. Channel it through the walking stick.”

When his mana withdrew, I tried and struck the boulder instead. Drained from the effort, I dropped to my knees as stone cracked apart from the force. Eventually, the rock atop it did roll off of it but when I realized I failed to do as instructed, my shoulders slumped. I could even feel my ears droop a little in disappointment.

“Dammit, I missed it.”

To a lack of any response, I looked up to find Solas wide-eyed and still staring at the broken bolder in shock. An ache in my head started as I weaved a little, my eyes darting from the bolder to him. I connected the dots and started to worry.

“Solas? I take it from your expression that was really bad.” 

Coming back from his thoughts his expression slipped back into his usual veneer of calm. 

“No, only unexpected. Your aptitude is surprising although unwieldy. Still a fine start,” he reassured, took the stick from me and looked it over.

“So my aim sucks and I probably overdid it?” I guessed as he helped me get back to my feet.

To this, he laughed, “Overdid it? A vast understatement. Amazing, you didn't even damage the wood. Your hand, please?”

I didn't need him to tell me which one he wanted. Without hesitation, I extended the one bearing his mark. I watched on as he gently turned my palm up to the sky and bit back a goofy smile at the warmth of his touch. How his lightly calloused fingertips coaxed my fingers to open. I let out a shaky breath as his magic started to probe at the power his orb left there.

“Odd. It's dormant at least for now,” he realized and froze. “I’m sorry did that hurt?”

“N-no I just feel a little dizzy is all,” I answered quickly. Maybe it was the headache or the fact he simply held my hand in both of his. However, I sure didn't want to admit the latter to him.

“Your head, may I?” To my nod, his fingertips brushed the side of my temple. I let out another unsteady exhale and resisted the urge to lean into his touch. Instead, I closed my eyes. A soft hum emanated from the contact and it took some time before my lips would work.

“It's just a small headache. D-do we get them every time we use magic?”

“Only if one overexerts themselves. It's a delicate balance. All mages must strive to push beyond their boundaries else they will never reach their full potential. It requires time and patience as taking in too much and too often can prove fatal,” he whispered absently as cool tendrils soothed my temples. "There, feeling better now?”

“Yes, thank you,” I answered and managed a weak smile.

His eyes narrowed shrewdly but he did not press the subject further. Instead, he handed me back the walking stick. “You're welcome, but you must tell me immediately if your head or hand worsens. Day or night do not hesitate to seek me out.”

“I promise.”

He nodded grimly but relaxed enough to drop the matter and continue on with, “Good. For now, let us practice some basic moves with these next.”

I watched as he slowly went through a form with his own staff. It echoed various color guard moves from a marching band rather than combat techniques found on Earth. In essence, he was rotating the stick around with the minimum amount of movement with his hands. As entertaining as that was I failed to see how it could be aggressive or even defensive.

With a grimace, I guessed, “So... this is for gathering mana and not fending off would-be attackers?”

“Correct. Defense and combat will come later as magic is your most powerful weapon. You need to know the basics of collecting and wielding it first before incorporating it into, at times, a physical weapon,” he explained without pausing in the various twirls of the staff. When he started the movement over again I gave it a reluctant try but with far less grace. 

It didn't help my concentration at all when he paused to adjust my grip upon the stick. 

“Here, relax your finger a little but try to maintain as much contact as possible. It helps with the transfer of power into you and then back into the weapon. Yes, that is better, well done," he encouraged as he let go. He took a few steps back and started cycling through the move again. "We shall go slower this time.”

When he frowned at my second attempt, halfway through I gave up with a discouraged sigh.

“You can do this, Elly.”

His words did little to help. I trembled as various memories of always getting picked last for softball or any team sport played out through my mind. I started to hyperventilate as the groans, whispers, and snickers whenever I swung a bat and missed the ball echoed in my ears. I doubted any enemy here would give me three strikes. The various ways I could fail everyone now had me holding my breath and looking about us for an escape. But Haven was nowhere to be found and the trees around us pressed in. Dizzy I closed my eyes tight and bit back a whimper.

_ Not now, not in front of him! _

I silently pleaded as my eyes started to water. It never worked. Panic attacks are like snowballs collecting and growing more as they tumbled down a hill. At least until a green glow flashed through my lids and a ringing filled my ears.

"Elly," his muffled yet firm tone made me jump.

My eyes flew open and the barrier I had somehow placed over myself evaporated away within seconds. We stared at one another for a while. His expression held nothing but concern and it took me a few moments to realize he radiated it too as I bombarded him with my panic.

"How... I didn't..."

"Slow, deep breath," he soothed and made no move to invade my space. When I inhaled as instructed, without any pity he encouraged, "Again. Keep them slow and deep. Breathing and clearing one's mind is more important than any movement of a staff. You're doing well for your very first lesson."

The new part of me wanted to lash out and at the very least call his encouragement utter bullshit. It stung as I started to realize her knowledge was still there but shattered. The majority of fragments scattered for now, just out of reach as a great sense of loss washed over me at the destruction I found within.   
  
Despite my ire, his mana about me continued to embrace and comforted I admitted, “I've ah… I've never been good at… swinging things. Or doing anything that involves larger muscle coordination for that matter.”

“But this isn't just about how well you can wield a staff. You fear failure, even now, before me. Am I correct?"

Sheepishly I nodded and asked, "What if I'm not good at this? What if I never will be? What if someone dies because I cannot pull my weight? Solas, I-I don't think I'm a fighter."

"Accept the fact that you are not one now. Always remember, we all do not excel at anything from talent or luck. We learn the most from our failures and our willingness to put our pride aside and resume trying. Keep in mind and be reassured in the fact that you will never move exactly as I do or any other mage as each of us is unique. What I show you now is my method to gather mana which will start you on a path to finding yours,” he reassured and took a step closer. "Is there anything else troubling you?"

I wavered a bit but ended up shaking my head no. 

A weary disappointment softened his features as he murmured, "Perhaps in time, we can both admit more to one another. For now, let's refocus upon the lesson.

I hugged myself, absorbed his words, and resisted the urge to ask him if we could call it a day. Mentally, I felt exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide away from him and this new world for a few hours. But his instructions which followed drew me back and bolstered me enough to keep going.

“Now is the time to revel in your mistakes and take joy in your successes. In the coming weeks, as we work to stabilize the Hinterlands, no one will expect you to fight. Others, as well as myself, will do everything we can to protect you. However, there may be moments where you will need to defend yourself if not, lend aid to others."

"Such as a barrier spell I just did?" I guessed with some trepidation.

"Yes," Solas confirmed. "As fragile as the one you just cast, it was a fine start. We shall work on that one first in time. But for now, everyone knows your primary objective is to stay alive to continue to seal rifts and eventually close the Breach. As for this very moment simply watch me to familiarize yourself with this sequence.” After going through the pattern a few more times, Solas inquired, “Do you happen to recall what kind of actions or movements make you feel comfortable? Activities you enjoy?”

“Drawing with charcoals… sculpting in clay… cro-er weaving I guess.” 

“And yet you selected to bear Ghilan'nain’s markings instead of June's?” He snorted but more in humor.

“Oh, I went with this one simply because I thought it was the prettiest and covered the least. Have you seen some of them? Simply dreadful styles, what were the Creators thinking?”

My flippant tone earned a chuckle from him but it was the truth. I had no clue who the various gods the vallaslin symbolized until much later. In fact, I was ticked off I could not be a barefaced city elf or circle mage. It didn't take long to figure out that I could just dye one of the smaller tattoos to match Lavallan’s skin tone. But my girlfriend at the time stressed the importance of having a visible one if I planned to romance Solas.

"You're serious?"

"Yes, surprised?" I asked but then sobered. 

Flashes of a long braid of red graying hair, an elven woman, and her kind eyes hit me. Upon her freckled and fine-lined face was an even more intricate brown Ghilan'nain’s vallaslin. Her irritation evaporated into a relieved smile when she looked up as she brushed down a halla.

_ "There you are, da'lin. Help your poor old mame get these nettles out of this one's coat. He takes no care in where he rolls, damn fool." _

"It… it was also to honor my mother. She tends the halla for our clan. I also found the legend of the Mother of Halla and Navigation fitting as I will someday be a pathfinder for my people as Keeper."

The answer spilled forth from Ellana's memories unexpectedly. The fact it matched a later developed headcanon as to why Ellana picked Ghilan'nain’s vallaslin gave me a chill.

When he started the routine again I pushed thoughts of both our pasts aside for now and decided to give it another try. 

Upon the slow upward swing he explained, “Since these are not infused with any lyrium they will do relatively little damage if you were to lose control. Still, given what happened to the boulder, you will not practice these movements or any magic alone and certainly never in the village.”

“Understood. The last thing I want to do is burndown Haven,” I joked with a weak laugh. When he didn’t stop what he was doing but frowned I asked, “Wait...can-can we really do that?”

“I doubt you can, at least intentionally. Maybe just set fire to your cabin you seem so very fond of never leaving,” he teased but softened it with a small smile. “But from what you shared with me, connecting your power to mine, I was able to assess the nature of your abilities. They lean more towards healing and defense rather than destruction.”

“Really? But how? I mean look at that rock over there!” I stopped to look down at my hands. My eyes started to water. I had always wanted to help more than hurt. People just yelling around me or if someone was just simply angry had me fleeing for solitude in my old life. Aloud I admitted, “If I knew this before I-I wouldn’t have moped in my damn cabin so much. I would have tried to help more.”

“While I admire your enthusiasm you are hardly in any shape to help.” 

This had me drooping again and him chuckling, “You may yet become a fine healer someday but untrained you could do more harm than good. Patience Herald. Now you try this movement a few more times.”

“Elly,” I corrected and dropped into the same stance he took again. 

“Ma nuvenin… Elly,” he agreed and started to move the staff slowly around in demonstration.

As I tried to mimic him, I struggled to remember the right eleven words I could offer back. I knew a few but even the writers only provided a small collection at best. Sure I could read a number of languages now but saying them aloud was oddly hit or miss.

“Ma… ma serannas?”

It didn’t have the effect I hoped for. Unlike with Josephine this time, it did not roll off my tongue. 

Solas paused, saddened before he thickly asked, “Have even the Dalish truly lost so much? Half the time you can barely say it correctly.”

I tried not to take offense. Growing up and to this day still, I upon occasion struggled to pronounce certain words. Compartmentalization for example I still found to be a mouthful when sleepy or drunk.

“I wouldn't know,” I honestly answered. "This may sound weird but I can read it better than speak it."

“Of course. So few give voice to the words anymore, much less read them. Time and defeat after defeat as whittled them down to hollow curses and-” He stopped, turned away his knuckles whitened as he gripped the stick harder. 

“So if you know more of our people's language then teach me and stop insulting me," I challenged and wanted to get in his face. This had to be Ellana again or at least what was left of her as I never took insult from his issues with the Dalish before. The theory at the very least helped cooled this new temper. After a deep breath, I elaborated on what I think she would have wanted to say.

"Solas, I want to do it right. It's what the Dalish strive to hold onto. To remember it. To honor _our _past. After all of this perhaps I can share it with the clans and anyone else who is interested.”

He shook his head before he moved through the form again. With a frown, I followed his lead. Only after we repeated the series of swings and twirls of our sticks several times did he finally speak up.

“If we can find the time. Sadly, teaching you to at least defend yourself must remain our priority.”

“Sure but it shouldn't be all work. Do you have any hobbies?”

“As a dreamer, I enjoy going deep into the Fade to witness moments and places from the past.”

“Like Alathan?”

“Yes, there were countless marvels… most destroyed by pride due to arrogance and cruelty. Imagine a world with no Veil, where magic flows free upon the wind and fills the air about you. Where spirits are as common as trees.”

I tried to think of something comforting to say without revealing anything that would cause suspicions or questions I could not answer. It took a little while before I finally dared to speak up.

“That does sound wonderful but what is done is done. Perhaps this is ignorance since I will never comprehend fully what was lost but… what matters most is this moment and making the most of it, right?”

“You are correct. You do not,” he replied ever calm yet he stood a little taller. His chin lifted but I did not flinch as he gazed down his nose at me with lips pressed tight.

“Solas, I will not waste my life bemoaning the past and what was lost.”

“How I envy your ignorance.”

“I’ll give you that,” I accepted the barb and threw it right back. “But far too many dig through the rubble and spend too much time trying to piece together what is shattered beyond repair. We should learn but not dwell upon the ancestors' mistakes as well as ours. True the Creators may be locked away according to some legend but all I see is that we _don't _need them. Some of us have figured that out. Sadly, most just want to lay all the blame at Fen’Harel’s feet instead of taking responsibility for their own actions after what he did. We should at the very lease take pride in that we endured despite it all and...” I trailed off and found myself trembling. For so very long I had wanted to tell him this and now I felt I said too much.

“Barely, your people _ barely _ scrape by and dwindle with each passing year."

"Yeah so that's still on us and not the Dread Wolf."

"You… but you still blame him for at least some of your people's fall do you not?” His attempts at nonchalance by using an amused tone failed. I could see right through it but only because I knew the truth. If I hadn't I probably would have missed the tremble in his hands before he clutched them behind his back as his weight shifted from one foot to another anxiously.

I gave a small laugh, shook my head, and joked, “I doubt he did what he did as one massive prank to giggle about for a millennium. Well, he might have laughed a little about his success. But seriously no, I think he had a reason to lock them away.”

“Good or bad?” 

I gave pause then with a shrug admitted, “I'd like to think his heart was in the right place. Still maybe a little of both? All a matter of perspective, isn’t it always? What do you think about the matter?” 

A risky question but my curiosity got the better of me. To my morbid delight, I watched him practically squirm. 

“Come on Solas. Surely you have an opinion upon him and the others, don’t you?”

He opened his mouth to say something but with a shake of his head he refused to answer.

“I rather not dwell further on the topic. At least for now. Instead, let us return to the task at hand.” 

We did not stop practicing until sunset. Despite the fact, we took a number of breaks and Ellana’s body was more fit than my old one, I felt as if my arms were turning into lead by the time the sky started to darken. 

As we walked back to Haven Solas said little. I didn't mind him brooding. He had already instructed me a great deal and I needed to do some thinking of my own. Mainly about how much I wanted to try and set back the plans of his I knew about. The elven artifacts for example that he would ask me to activate. I wondered if they could be a key to weaken the Veil or truly strengthen it as he mentioned in the game. Or knowing him they could probably do both and therefore technically not be lying. I debated the pros and cons of destroying or at least relocating and securing them. If Dagna could get to the bottom of their true purpose. But I put any further thoughts about them aside when we returned everything we borrowed and the cold wind picked up.

On it, we caught whiffs of meat cooking and all of my concerns turned from rest to food. My stomach growled loudly when we passed through the gate. Self-conscious, I laughed a little as he certainly heard it too.

“Wanna head to the tavern for a meal before we call it a night?”

“I believe that would be unwise.”

“Why because we're mages or elves?”

He paused a beat then shook his head, “Neither. The tavern in the evening can become rather rowdy at times.”

“If it gets too loud we can take something to go and eat somewhere else. I’ve been eating all alone in my cabin for days. I really don't like it. I always worry about what would happen if I started to choke.”

“Then you should eat slower and chew it longer if that is a pressing concern,” he snorted with a grin as I gave a short laugh.

“True but come on, being the Herald will probably fetch us at least a free meal from these humans. For you, I will even bat my eyelashes and let them gawk at my blessed hand to get us a bottle of wine on the house oh and dessert too. I doubt they will have any frilly or fancy cakes but maybe they have something else sweet to end a meal with.”

I watched his eyes light up to the mention of dessert. He struggled to resist but eventually gave in.

“You think they would have at least pie?”

I shrugged and dared, “Guess we’ll just have to find out won't we?”

“You drive a tempting bargain. How can I refuse?”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

>   
Reminder: Some chapters will be in first person and others, especially of a romantic nature, will be in third. 
> 
> I'm up for any tag suggestions. Do I have enough of them? 
> 
> If I missed any warnings or triggers please don't hesitate to let me know so I can correct the issue and know I'm more than happy to answer any questions in the comments below. However, I may not be able to answer some fully if they involve spoilers.


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